


Master of Disguise

by Fallencellist



Series: Slightly Above Average Hero and Villain's Love [3]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Possessiveness, Violence, fluff and angst with a side of evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: Who was Glanni Glæpur? That was a question that plagued the minds of the young children of Lazy Town, even Sportacus himself. Only Millford and Bessie knew who this man was, and they wished none of the others to meet such a nasty, vile and--dare they say--ROTTEN man. Despite all their efforts, one small mistake of a miscalculation in Robbie Rotten's plans by Stephanie causes the villain to resurface...





	1. Rotten on the Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Can't have it all fluff and happiness now can we? This is a bit of experimenting with the characters as well as some ideas I have to connect the 1999 play "Glanni Glæpur í Latabæ" and the TV series. In this story the events of Glanni Glæpur í Latabæ occur with Number Nine instead of Sportacus (with different children of course), which rolls into the events of the TV series. There will be a few parts of flashbacks between Glanni and Number Nine as well as Robbie and Number Nine.
> 
> This story will have multiple parts, and depending on how long I decide to make it might get above 10 chapters. Who knows! Anyways, enjoy and leave a comment about what you think!

Master of Disguise, it was what they would call him—well if there was anybody who cared to call him that. Time to time Sportacus would humor him, when they would cross paths in their normal day to day routine of planning and foiling said plans, but it wasn’t often he would get the chance. 

When Sportacus found out about Robbie’s little activities, he began to refer to him as “The Master of Disguise.” It was a little thing he enjoyed to help give the villain a bit of cheer. 

This small thing made the lanky man smile beyond anything he could imagine, even if he didn’t smile externally. Yes, at times he would purposefully mess up one of his plots and/or his invention, just to get a moment with Sportacutie—he’d never call him that out loud of course. 

Often Robbie could hear the kids talking amongst each other, accusing the villain of being such a horrible inventor due to the errors. Oh, how little those kids understood or chose to understand. If he ever really went full force on them, they wouldn’t know what would hit them before it was too late. His laziness just stopped him from getting to that point. 

Each day was filled with games and Robbie Rotten trying to get them to stop. It was hardly ever serious for Robbie or Sportacus, it was just a game between the two of them—just like sports was the game between the hero and the kids. 

Today was no different: there was always a plan Robbie Rotten had concocted up to try to trick Sportacus, using a special disguise and everything. He had an extra special surprise for the blue elf today. 

Sportaelf was not the only one who had a bit of magic up his sleeve. 

It was a colder day, with the Master of Disguise up to one of his tricks, dressed as something like a mechanic, or maybe an inventor—it was hard to tell. Either way he had devised a plan to use a machine that had a variety of effects available. Today, it was going to be used to sap the power right out of the elf—not permanently. 

Of course, he didn’t expect it to go well, he didn’t want to really take away the powers of Sportacus. Why would he do that to the target of his affection? 

He had placed the machine in a secret location, next to the apple tree that grew in the town square. It was a small machine that created a barrier—whomever stepped through the said barrier would lose all their strength, or get a nice tingling sensation down their spine. Either effect was only temporary. There were various other effects of the machine: make them extra energetic (Sportaflip didn’t need that), remove inhibitions, make the target extra motivated, add an allergy to a specific type of substance, and a few other ones the evil genius didn’t even remember making. 

Part of the reason he built the contraption was to give Sportaflip a moment to relax, since it seemed the elf wouldn’t stop moving, saving everyone all day and flipping and running and jumping and—Robbie shivered at the thought of all those activities and stuck his tongue out in disgust. 

It still made his mind wonder how in the world he had gotten feelings for Sportaflop and the elf returned those feelings: they were so different, yet so alike. 

It sounded like too much work to try to figure out the reasoning behind the cruel fate the world had given to him and the other, so he gave up on thinking about it. Work was nothing he ever enjoyed doing—though, from time to time he did enjoy concocting new ideas and plans to use against Sportacus. The only movement he did was for being the evil genius he was. 

Now, he waited sitting atop one of the walls circling around the town, a large metallic mallet in his hand. He had a way with the hammers and mallets, being able to use them to create gadgets not even that geeky brat Pixy, or whatever his name was, could dream of creating. 

He drummed his slender fingers against the surface, humming to himself as he played his most hated game besides sports: the waiting game. Robbie sang softly to himself to pass the time, smiling as he did so. 

“I’m the master of disguise,” he sang, raising one hand into the air while the other hoisted the mallet over his shoulder, “I can vanish from your eyes.” 

In a snap of his fingers, the villain disappeared into a small puff of a slightly tinted purple smoke. 

The disguised man appeared on a wall nearby, the grin growing on his face, “I can be in different places with my many funny faces in disguise.” With a flick of the hat donned on his head, he leaned back a bit. 

A small chuckle escaped before he quickly leaned forward again, remembering where he was currently positioned at. 

Just then, the sound of laughter and loud voices interrupted him, the gray-blue eyes turning to their direction, “What’s this?” He held back a sneer, cupping a hand over his ear to amplify the approaching sounds, quickly regretting it at the happy squeal of the kids. 

He moved the hand with a shiver, before using it as a visor over his eyes to block the sun. 

Sure enough, there were those little brats, all gathered around and blabbing loudly to each other. Robbie let out a shudder, shooing them away with a free hand, “Go away, shoo!” Of course, he was too far away for the kids to hear him now. 

“Let’s get some sports candy before Sportacus comes to play with us!” Ziggy cheerfully commented, bouncing up and down as they walked, “Make it a surprise!” 

“That’s a great idea!” Stephanie agreed, picking up her pace to head to the apple tree, “We’ll all surprise him with it!” The other three voice their agreement, following the pink haired girl to the designated tree. 

“Darn it,” Robbie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “They’re going to ruin everything!” He twitched his nose, tapping a finger against the opposite upper arm, “I have to do something…” Then he realized something off. 

He darted his head side to side, dramatically looking for what he had lost, “Where did my hammer go?” His gaze dropped down, seeing the metallic mallet on the ground, a few bits of the road broken around it due to the impact, “Oopies,” Robbie chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “I meant to do that.” 

This meant having to get down, but he was going to have to anyways. If he wanted to get Sportacus he had to have the elf get near the tree. Might as well get down to try to lure him there. 

Perhaps it would be better if he just used the remote function of the device and zapped Sporty with it. Less effort was needed for that since he was going to be playing some disgusting sports game with them soon. He could just zap him why they were playing, or as he was heading there—he’d force Sporty not to play with them instead spend time with him! Hah! That would show those brats. 

Though, there was always the problem of heights. He hated heights almost as much as sports. 

A shiver ran through his body, shaking his head, “Bleh!” He grumbled under his breath, before raising both arms, “So much work! Sportaflop better make this all worth it and not try to get me to exercise,” another shiver, “with him.” 

He positioned his arms to snap, only to be jolted from his focus by the familiar soothing voice, “What are you doing Robbie?” 

The villain jumped, causing him to fall backwards. 

He never hit the ground, rather was caught in strong arms. 

Sportacus looked down to the man in his arms, a bright smile on his face, “What were you doing up there, I thought you were afraid of heights?” 

In comforting arms, Robbie gave a small huff and returned his arms over his chest, “I’m not afraid of heights, I just don’t like them.” He didn’t give much of a protest other than the tiny huff, “As for what I was doing, it’s villain stuff,” a wave from his free hand, “you wouldn’t understand Sortafluff.” 

The blue eyes glinted with affection, a small sigh mixed with a laugh coming from the athletic elf, “I’ll just take your word for it.” He planted a quick kiss on the villain’s lips before setting him down, “I promised the kids I would play a bit of football with them, but we can talk later.” Sportacus gave a gentle squeeze to his lover’s shoulder before flipping over the wall to greet the kids. 

Gray-blue eyes watched as the blue elf left, another pouting huff escaping him, “Once that machine works, he’ll have to take a break from playing with the brats.” 

Robbie hated to admit it out loud, but he was feeling jealous of those kids being able to spend so much time with Sportafluff without having to make it so secret. 

They didn’t know, nobody did expect for Pinky—she was the whole reason the relationship of the villain and hero began. Robbie didn’t want them to know, not just for his own sake, but for Sporty’s sake too—the citizens of Lazy Town weren’t exactly the most open minded, and the idea of the hero getting along with the villain in such a… close way, wasn’t something they would take too kindly to. 

Besides, they didn’t deserve to know about it. They would just try to break it up. 

Stephanie cared too much for Sportacus to do something like break up his relationship, and due to her being mostly raised outside of Lazy Town, she had a few different ideals than the others. That probably wouldn’t be the same for those other kids. 

“Sportacus!” The cheers of the children raise in the air, smiling facing at the appearance of their hero. 

“Ready to play some football kids?” Sportacus beamed, pulling out the football from the small backpack he had carried with him from his airship. 

A chorus of ‘yeah’ came from the group as they all ran towards the area designated for playing sports games. 

“One second,” Stephanie called out as she approached the apple tree, “I want to get a sports candy really quick!” Sportacus nodded to her before going to catch up with the kids. 

Robbie in the meantime was sneaking his way towards the device placed by that very same tree, slipping from behind walls and behind trashcans smaller than his tall lanky body, until he came upon the tree. 

He peeked over the back of the bench, noticing the pink haired girl dangerously close to the device, “No!” He bit at the nails of one of his hands, “Don’t touch that!” 

In the opposite of what he said, the girl noticed the strange device. Her eyes grew wide with curiosity as she picked it up, glancing at it for a moment, “What’s this?” Her eyes focused on the switches and dials on the surface. 

She began to run a finger between each button, wondering what each did—they were all different colors and labeled with a different letter and symbol than the others. It must have been something Pixel dropped. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Robbie stood up from behind the bench, marching over to the girl. He came up quietly to her, before sternly speaking, “Give that back.” 

Stephanie jumped, her finger smashing against the surface of the small device, pushing down one of the buttons. A bright red light flashed, for a moment consuming the vision of both her and Robbie. The man let out something like a scared shrill screech. 

When the light was gone, she rubbed her eyes, blinking, “Oh jeez,” her eyes went to look in front of her, expecting to see the very unhappy expression of the lanky man. Only the empty air. 

Curious, she averted her gaze down, finding the man collapsed onto the floor, “Oh no!” 

A beeping sound escaped the crystal, the glow emanating from his chest, “Somebody’s in trouble…” Sportacus frowned, knowing it was Robbie, “I’ll be back kids!” He called out before dashing away, barely giving a second to do his signature moves. 

“What about MY game?” Stingy called after him, football in his hands. 

The hero hadn’t heard the child, his mind focused on saving his villain. The crystal hadn’t shown him completely what was wrong, but whatever it was, it wasn’t the normal trouble Robbie had gotten himself into time and time again. 

Sportacus flipped over the wall, landing right next to Stephanie, “What happened, Stephanie?” He noticed the panic in her eyes, her small hands gripping the device tightly. She turned her focus away from the unconscious Robbie, tears threatening to seep out. 

Sportacus gave her a sympathetic frown, leaning down to her height. He tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to look at him, “It’s okay Stephanie: we all make mistakes. I’m sure Robbie will forgive you for it.” 

His bright blue eyes glanced to the device, noticing the signature “RR” imprinted on the metal—so smoothly etched into the metallic surface in the sophisticated cursive. It seemed to be machine carved, but it was all delicately carved by Robbie’s hands. 

That was one thing Sportacus found fascinating about Robbie: despite his laziness and disregard for any sort of activity that he didn’t want to do, he was very skilled with his handwriting and the creation of things. There were always glitches here and there in anything he made, but sometimes the athlete wondered if he made those glitches on purpose. That theory was especially supported when he discovered the feelings Robbie had for him. 

Speaking of Robbie… Sportacus turned to the man, slowly approaching him just in case he was already waking up, “Robbie?” he softly called out at first. When no response was given, he called the name a bit louder, “Robbie?” 

Still no response. The villain laid on the grass, his muscles tensed up as if he was having a nightmare. This made Sportacus’ frown deepen, “Stephanie,” he turned to look to her, “help me get Robbie back to his home.” 

The girl nodded before coming up next to the hero. She glanced to the wall where Robbie had originally sat, noticing the large hammer lying next to the stone vertical surface, “Look!” She pointed in the direction, the elf’s gaze following, “Do you think that belongs to Robbie?” 

“It does,” Sportacus nodded, though he knew there was no way he would be able to pick it up. Most of the hammers the villain kept in his hideout and used for creating his various gadgets were odd—no matter how much sports candy Sportacus ate, he couldn’t pick up the mallets. And yet, the man who didn’t exercise or eat healthy, whom struggled to lift less than ten pounds could easily pick them up. 

It still baffled him, but that wasn’t his concern right now, “We’ll have to get it later, right now,” his blue eyes turned to the unconscious Robbie, “We need to get him back home.” With that he picked up the man, gently cradling him in his strong arms, “Come on.” 

Stephanie nodded quickly, still holding onto the device, “Alright,” quickly she turned over her shoulder and called out to the other kids, “We’ll be back guys, we gotta take Robbie back to his home!” 

“What?” Ziggy bolted over to the two, not too far followed by the other kids, “You’re going to Robbie’s lair?” His eyes lit up with excitement, “Can we come, please? We promise not to touch anything or get in trouble!” 

“Yeah!” Pixel nodded in agreement, as mumbled agreements came from Stingy and Trixie. 

“I-” Sportacus started out, before letting out a sigh. It wouldn’t hurt to let the kids down there, if they didn’t touch anything, right? 

He nodded slowly, “Alright, you can come,” he paused to let the kids cheer, before adding on, “But no touching anything, and only stay in the main room.” 

They all nodded, before the group headed out in the direction of the only entrance Stephanie and Sportacus knew to reach the underground lair of the villain. 

Behind them Trixie whispered to Stingy, “How do they know where that rotten villain’s lair is?” 

Stingy shrugged, “I don’t know, but I want to know where it is. That information should be MINE.” 

It wasn’t a long trek before the group reached the large billboard where the hatch was hidden. One at a time, starting with Sportacus whom was carrying the knocked-out villain, they jumped down the hatch, falling into the darkness within the pipes. 

It was almost like a giant enclosed slide, going deeper and deeper underground as they descended into the lair of the villain. 

At the bottom, they were shot out into the large room, a few of the kids landing on their butts, why Sportacus had already landed, looking around for a place to set the unconscious villain. 

“Woah…” Pixel awed, his eyes turning to all the contraptions that framed the eerie cold room, “I’ve never seen such amazing machines before!” As the kid approached one of the machines that looked like a mutant microwave that was permanently stuck with a few other contraptions, he commented, “Robbie made all of this stuff himself?” 

Before he could touch anything, Sportacus spoke up, “Don’t touch anything,” all the kids look to him, “It’s unkind to go into somebody’s home and touch things without permission.” He especially gave the look to Stingy, whom was just about to touch the fuzzy orange chair. 

“What?” Stingy darted his eyes, trying to act casual, “I wasn’t going to touch anything.” His eyes wandered back towards the chair. 

Sportacus let out a sigh, before heading towards the back side of the large room, “Stay here I’m going to set him down in his bed.” The elf knew that the villain rarely used his own bed, seeming to prefer to chair situated in the main room, but that wasn’t the best for the situation. With the kids, especially, he knew Robbie wouldn’t be too happy to wake up with to them staring at him. 

He lifted a leg, gently using his foot to open the heavy metal door leading to the bedroom. It wasn’t nearly as big as the main room—perhaps not even one third of the size. There was only enough room for a bed and a dresser with a small closet adjacent to the bed. 

Carefully Sportacus lowered Robbie onto the bed, making sure not to move him too much. Since the trip down the man was more relaxed, but something still worried the hero about his state. Usually even if the villain was having a nightmare he’d look decently peaceful. Here, he looked different, something… almost terrifying about him. 

The elf sat on the bed next to him, studying him for a few moments longer. He didn’t like this at all. What did that machine do to him? With a sigh, Sportacus planted a soft kiss to Robbie’s cheek, before leaving him in the small room, "I'll be back to check on you." 

As he came into the main room he was greeted with Ziggy asking a strange question, “Hey guys,” the kids turned their attention to him, “Who’s Glanni Glæpur?” In the kid’s hands was a few papers that looked old and worn out. The edges were torn and the pages looked to almost be falling apart. 

“Glanni Glæpur?” Stephanie raised an eyebrow, tapping her chin, “I’ve never heard of somebody by that name.” 

“I have,” Pixel added in, getting the attention turned to him. He paused for a moment, frowning, “It’s not a good name. It was a bit before our time, back when number Nine was just starting out as the hero here in Lazy Town. Apparently Glanni had done some foul trick to the whole town, which ended with Number Nine beating him at his own game—sort of like that hero did with Rottenbeard.” 

“That sounds scary,” Ziggy frowned, holding tightly onto his lollypop and the papers, “What happens if this guy is still around…” He added on as he thought aloud, “And why would Robbie Rotten have papers with this guy’s name on it?” The kid glanced to his lollypop, now stuck to one of the papers. He frowned before working on prying the two apart. 

Pixel opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Sportacus clearing his throat, “Guys,” he let out a sigh as he approached the center of the room, “What did I tell you about going through his things and not touching anything?” 

Ziggy held his breath before slowly replacing the papers where he found them, and the parts of the one he separated from the candy. Stingy on the other hand kept a hold on the orange pillow he had swiped from the fuzzy chair, “This is mine now.” 

“Stingy…” Sportacus gave him the look, “Remember that wish you made, to never steal things from other again?” The kid let out a heavy sigh, replacing the pillow back onto the chair. The elf turned to the other kids, seeing the worry in their eyes. 

“Do you think,” Trixie thought aloud, “that Robbie could be related to that Glæpur guy, or,” She had an expression that was a mix between awe and fear, “could actually be him?” 

“How is that possible?” Stingy huffed, crossing his tiny arms over his chest, “Robbie can’t do anything sinister, so how could he be anything like what Pixel said about that guy? Robbie can hardly go a day without messing up.” 

“I think it would be cool,” Trixie didn’t sound completely sincere about her statement, “That Glanni guy sounds like he would be the master of tricks! And,” She gave a smug grin as she glanced to Sportacus, “He’d actually be a real challenge for Sportacus unlike Robbie Rotten.” 

Sportacus remained silent, listening to the conversation being tossed between the kids. He had heard a bit about this Glanni Glæpur person from Number Nine—it was usually a custom that if a town went back into peril and another of the elves with the numbers went there, they would get a bit of information from the previous hero. 

Per Number Nine, Glanni had be beaten before he could do anything completely devious and devastating to the town, but Nine didn’t say exactly what the man’s fate was. All he was told that Glanni vanished into the outskirts of the town, never to be seen again after being caught. He was supposed to be thrown back in jail, but when the Sports Festival came around, Glanni had vanished. 

Though, what made him suspicious was the fact Robbie didn’t really show up in the town history until a few months after Glanni had vanished. Nine had a few months with Robbie before things were settled down in Lazy Town and he left to help another town. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud crashing of machinery. His eyes shot up, seeing a few gadgets laying broken on the floor, Trixie standing close by. She gasped, looking up to Sportacus with panic, “It wasn’t me! I bumped into the table, but I didn’t push those things off!” 

Sportacus sighed, stepping over to the mess, “Clean it up, and you should apologize to Robbie for breaking some of his things.” 

Trixie pouted, “He should apologize for all the tricks he pulled on us if we have to apologize for breaking a few things.” 

“Now Trixie,” Sportacus gave her a stern look, “It’s very impolite to come into somebody’s home and break things. It’s also impolite to try to get out of the blame and not apologize for doing it.” He leaned down, picking up the metal parts before placing them onto the table once again, “Please, just don’t touch anything else.” 

“Yes Sportacus,” Trixie, Stingy and Ziggy spoke up sounding a bit sad—mostly because they knew the hero was disappointed with them. 

He gave them a smile before turning to face where Stephanie was standing, “Now Stephanie,” he walked over to her, noticing she was still holding the device that caused the problem, “Which button did you press?” 

The pink haired girl looked from Sportacus to the device, before pointing to a red button that had the letter “V” on it, “This one.” Her voice showed her regret for doing such a thing, “I hope it didn’t do anything really bad…” She turned her gaze back to Sportacus, “We could figure out what it did to him and work on a way to reserve it!” Stephanie looked to Pixel, “Could you help us with that Pixel?” 

The boy nodded, walking over to her side to get a look at the device, “Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” Gently he took the device from Stephanie, beginning to look it over. 

“Now,” Stephanie held her breath for a moment before letting it out in a long exhale, “We wait to figure out what happened. Hopefully, as well…” She frowned, “Hopefully Robbie can forgive me…” 

“I know Robbie will forgive you,” Sportacus smiled at Stephanie, getting the smile to grow on her lips, “He may be sour at time and mean, but he’s truly soft on the inside. He doesn’t mean to be malicious of vindictive,” the elf hummed, “He mostly just wants to have a moment to sleep and relax.” 

“Do you think he was always that way?” Stephanie quarried, tilting her head, “That he was always rotten like this?” 

Sportacus smiled, winking at the pink haired girl, “I think we know he isn’t always rotten like that all the time.” His smile brightened when the girl smiled back, “He’s just used to being the way he is now that it’s hard for him to go back. It will take time, but we can help him go back.” 

“You think you can actually change him?” Stingy huffed, “It seems impossible for him to go back before he became so rotten!” 

“It is in his name,” Ziggy commented. 

“Everybody can change,” Sportacus replied with a firm nod, “It takes work and dedication.” 

“Something that’s going to make it really hard to get Robbie to do,” Stephanie frowned. 

“I think I got it,” Pixel interrupted the conversation, not sounding too proud of his accomplishment. The kids and Sportacus glanced over to him, eager to figure out what was going on. 

The tech kid frowned, holding up the device, “I think that button causes the target’s memories to get mixed up. They’ll remember everyone’s name and where they are, but,” he placed the device beside him on the table, “There’s a chance they will be completely different from who they were previously. It seems to also motivate them.” 

“Oh no…” Stephanie covered his mouth, “That could be really bad!” She gazed up to Sportacus, her eyes drooping with sorrow, “What if we can’t reverse it?” Though, that motivation was a good part—it could help them get Robbie back to a time when he wasn’t so rotten. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her, “There’s always a way.” He gave her a smile, before turning to Pixel, “Pixel, work on a way to possibly use that device to undo the changes. The rest of us will try the old way of trying to jog his memory: make him do what he does best.” 

“What’s that?” Trixie joked, “Messing up?” 

“No,” Sportacus glanced to the glass tubes that contained the various disguises Robbie would use, “disguises and tricks. If we give him reasons to try to trick us and use the disguises and magic, we should be able to at least start to jog his memory. It can also give time for Pixel to work on the machine.” 

The kids nodded in agreement to the plan. Stephanie’s eyes lit up as well, getting back to her normal chipper self, “This is going to be easy! Let’s help out Robbie and get him back to normal.” 

“Wait,” Ziggy paused, “Magic?” He glanced to Sportacus, “Robbie has magic?” 

“We’ll call it magic,” Sportacus laughed, feeling bad for adding that in. Nobody in town knew about the villain having magic except for him. 

“Oh!” Ziggy smiled, completely buying the excuse, “Then we’ll do everything we can to help him, right guys?” 

Their cheers were cut short by an annoyed voice, “Don’t patronize me!” All eyes turned to see Robbie standing in the back, eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest, “You really think I would want **your** help?” He seemed different, almost sinister, like a real villain. 

“Get out!” He sneered at them, “Get out of my lair!” He picked up one of the nearby larger mallets, hoisting it up onto his shoulder, “Leave before I make you leave…” 

Sportacus frowned, not liking the look in his eyes, “Kids let’s go.” He didn’t want to hear them argue. He knew that look in the man’s eyes, the look of dark sincerity. Something was wrong. 

Without giving much of a chance for movement, Stephanie stepped towards Robbie, confidence in her eyes, “We’re not leaving until we help you! If we can help you, things can go back to normal.” 

A low rumbling growl came from the villain, taking a step closer to the girl, “You don’t get it little girl,” he sneered deeper, “I don’t want help!” He raised the mallet up, hissing, “I’ll be happy once I rule this town!” 

Right before the flat end of the weapon smashed down, Sportacus dive rolled in the way, quickly swiping up Stephanie. He ushered the kids along, guiding them swiftly to the nearest way out of the lair, “Move!” He commanded them as he helped them into the tunnel, “Quickly.” 

Stephanie gave one last glance back towards Robbie before following the other kids into the tunnel. This was all her fault, and it weighed down her heart. 

Sportacus turned around, surprised when he was met with the gray-blue eyes close to his own blue eyes, “Robbie,” He made his voice smooth and calm, “What is going on?” 

“What’s going on?” The villain repeated the question, before letting out a small laugh, “What is going in, is that I’m getting rid of the problem.” He hummed with a grin, “I’ll be making sure those brats don’t get in the way of us.” 

The elf’s eyes went wide in disbelief, “Robbie! There’s no need for that! They are not getting in the way, they are our friends!” 

“Our friends?” Robbie snapped, the glare forming on his face, “Those brats are not my friends. I am a villain,” he let out a dangerous chuckle, leaning closer to Sportacus, “I am Glanni Glæpur, and all I need,” he gave a long passionate kiss to Sportacus on the lips. 

He pulled back after a moment, grinning, “All I need is you.”


	2. Infulrating the Lair of the Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus heads to his ship to send a message to Nine, why the children start playing a dangerous game of "poke the villain until he breaks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer since I just wrote until I noticed it was over 6,000 words. I had to cut the ending short, but don't worry it will continue into the next chapter! I'm having a lot of fun writing Glanni and hope you guys are enjoying the story as well!

Those words haunted Sportacus’ mind for hours after they escaped the lair. It wasn’t the words of the villain he had gotten to know ever since he had came to Lazy Town. They were off, sinister and truly evil. All things he knew that Robbie truly wasn’t. 

The group of them retreated into town, taking refuge in Mayor Meanswell’s house. They sat around the kitchen, the mayor standing in front of the stove as he cooked some dinner for the kids. 

Sportacus hovered close by the window, glancing out on occasion. His expression couldn’t hide the concern he felt towards Robbie. His mind was working on overdrive to figure out what was going on. 

Turned out Robbie was possibly this Glanni Glæpur guy, and something had made him completely dismiss that identity, or, because of the machine, he thought he was Glanni. Glanni was during the time that perhaps Robbie was a younger man at the time of the events. Either way it wasn’t a good situation, and he had to stop it before it got too far. Sportacus didn’t want anything to happen to his villain. 

It was hard for him to believe that Robbie Rotten could be the same man as Glanni Glæpur; the two of them were so different. Robbie was more of a soft-sided villain who just wanted to get some sleep. From what Nine told him, Glanni was truly the rotten one, getting to the point of poisoning the whole town just so they had to buy the antidote from him. Robbie would never do such a thing... would he? 

His mind started to think of a solution: Number Nine. The elf before him knew both Robbie and Glanni, so perhaps he would know something about the possible connection. Only problem was the fact it was hard to communicate between the elves when they would settle in one town. There was a considerable distance, and to arrange a meeting between two or more of them was near impossible with their crystals going off. 

He’d send Nine a letter, and hope to get a response back. 

“Sportacus?” Mayor Meanswell spoke up, getting the hero out of his mind, “Would you like some food?” 

He opened his mouth to politely decline when the crystal against his chest began to beep, “I’d love to Mayor, but somebody is in trouble.” He gave an apologetic frown to the kids, “I’ll be back later.” 

Before he left, Stephanie spoke up, “Wait!” The elf stopped for a moment looking over to her, “Everyone is here but Robbie and Bessie,” She was concerned for both, “Be careful please.” 

“I am always careful,” Sportacus smiled, before doing his signature moves, “I’ll be back soon.” Then dashed out the door. 

“Don’t worry Stephanie,” Mayor Meanswell reassured her, “Sportacus is a super hero, he’ll be able to take care of the problem lickidy split.” 

“Yeah!” Ziggy nodded. Yet, Stephanie didn’t look convinced as she took Sportacus’ position looking out the window. 

Trixie walked up next to her, letting out a fake huff, “Come on Pinky,” she nudged Stephanie with her elbow, “It’s going to be fine. Sportacus can easily handle himself!” She waited until the smile started to return to the pink haired girl’s face, “There’s that smile! If it makes you feel better,” Trixie glanced over to the mayor before nearly yelling, “Mayor!” 

The voice startled the mild-mannered Mayor, “Huh?!” He barely could stop the skillet from falling onto the floor. He let out a heavy sigh before looking to the girl, “Oh uh, yes Trixie?” 

“Is the town history book still in the library?” 

“Of course, it is,” he beamed, before getting a confused expression, “Why do you ask?” 

Trixie turned back to Stephanie with a triumphant grin, “Let’s look at the town history book to see about that Glanni guy, and how to stop him just in case he comes back! The book’s gotta have something in there about how Nine defeated him.” 

Stephanie’s look began to brighten even more. Even if it was more of a way to distract the pink haired girl from her lamenting, it would help them out just in case there was the moment the dastardly villain would somehow show his face again, “That sounds like a great idea!” 

“Did you say Glanni?” Mayor Meanswell frowned, getting the kids to look at him. 

“Yes uncle,” Stephanie nodded, “We wanted to look up in the town history about him.” 

The mayor shivered, his frown deepening, “Be careful kids,” he sounded uneasy, “It’s not a light subject for either side of the story…” He mumbled worried thoughts under his breath as he watched the kids scrambled out of the house. 

“Oh…” he sighed, head drooping, “I had hoped they’d never find out about him…” 

The kids hurriedly piled out the home, heading towards the library. The other kids, besides Stephanie were bouncing with excitement, cheering with happiness. Their cries of joy seemed to be a dismissal of the looming fear they had experienced just previously that day. Still, they didn’t let that get their spirits down. 

Pixel jumped up onto one of the shorter walls, a grin on his face, “Wouldn’t it be awesome to have been there when Number Nine drove away that villain?” He chuckled pointing an invisible weapon into the air, “Watch as he kicked butt like Sportacus does every day!” 

“Yeah!” Trixie grinned, standing in a dramatic pose, hands on her hips and legs slightly separated, “It would be so cool to watch! And it’d be so much cooler than watching him beat up Robbie Rotten.” The others laughed, skipping along. 

“I think it would be a bit scary though,” Ziggy shook a bit at the thought, “If he was a real villain he’d probably be really scary!” 

“It wouldn’t matter,” Trixie snorted, gently pushing the little boy, “Nine would still kick his butt no matter how evil or devious he was!” She nodded her head, the others nodding as well, “I wish they had a recording of it!” 

“Maybe they do…” Stephanie pondered aloud, “There’s a few recordings in the library, we could look for it there.” The eyes of the other kids lit up at the idea, all rushing to get to the library. 

They struggled at first to get into the library since all of them tried to enter at the same time. Eventually, they got a hold of themselves and entered one at a time—Stingy the first of course. The children began to wander around the library, looking for the history of Lazy Town book as well as anything that could give them other information. 

Ziggy and Stingy were the first to find something, coming across the records of old newspapers. 

“Hmmm,” Ziggy began to shift through the headlines, watching the large font titles, “Maybe this will have something…” He continued to flip through them, starting to not notice the words formulating the headlines, more just how they looked. 

Stingy gasped, before slapping the other kid’s hand away from the controls, “There was something back there!” He took over, scrolling back to what he saw. 

On the headline, Stingy returned to was the words, in large black inked letters “GLANNI GLÆPUR WALKS FREE!” This gave the kids a grim feeling in their guts, “Glanni Glæpur walks free?” 

Ziggy glance to Stingy, biting his lower lip, “I don’t like the sound of that… like he was somebody locked up in jail and got out…” Nervously the boy started to chew on the lollypop he brought with him, “He’s a criminal!” 

“That is a bit of helpful information…” Stingy hummed, before standing up, “Let’s go tell the others.” The other boy nodded before following the finely dressed boy. 

Stephanie, Pixel and Trixie were all situated around the large book that contained the history of the town, preparing to open the cover when the other two came running over. 

“Guys!” Stingy called out, pushing his way into the circle around the book, “I found some information about Glanni Glæpur!” He ignored the protesting words from Ziggy, “Apparently, he was a criminal before coming to Lazy Town!” 

“Did it say why he was in jail?” Stephanie questioned with a worried expression. 

“Nope, it only said he ‘walks free,’” Stingy hummed sadly, “That was all we could find out besides one article that said the president’s car was stolen.” 

“Alright,” Stephanie nodded, “That’s at least a bit more than what we had before.” She focused her eyes on the large book in front of them all, “Let’s look what the book has about him.” She opened the pages, flipping through each one to see that name. 

Nothing. There was mentions of Number Nine, yet no mention of Glanni Glæpur. This confused the children, “Why is he not in here?” Stephanie itched her head in confusion, “He sounded like an important figure in the history of Lazy Town, so why isn’t he in here?” 

Trixie leaned in closer to the book, noticing something off, “Hey…. Look.” She pointed to the inner edge of the book, bringing the bit that remained of the papers previously held in the book into focus. Only a thin torn strip of paper remained in the binding, as if somebody ripped a large chunk of the papers out, “It looks like they were torn out!” 

The other kids gasped at the discovery, worried mumbles exchanged. The only one that came to mind who would do such a thing, was not in the condition to answer their questions, or be willing to answer them. This left them exactly where they were before. 

“We know Robbie probably has the papers, right?” Pixel thought aloud, getting a few nods from the others, “What if we snuck into his lair and get those papers? They must be-” He stopped in mid-sentence, the thought donning on him. 

“Ziggy!” He turned his attention to the smallest of the group, the kid jumping, “Those papers you had! They must be the torn pages!” The others began to follow Pixel’s train of thought, getting the same excitement. 

“OH!” Ziggy nearly screech, before quieting down, “Those must have been the papers! If we can get them back, we can figure out the story!” 

Stephanie’s eyes lit up with determination, “Then that settles it! We’ll sneak back into Robbie’s lair and find those papers. With them we can figure out how to help Robbie and help him get to be not so rotten!” She jumped from her position, turning to the exit of the library, “Let’s head to some place where we can get our plan set up!” 

The others nodded in agreement, Pixel speaking up, “We can go to my house. I can gather some gadgets to help us with reconnaissance and getting safely around without him noticing us.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Stephanie agreed. She stopped dead in her tracks as she got another thought, “Should we check to see if they have any recordings of Glanni first before heading out?” 

Pixel hummed in thought, before nodding, “Yeah, that would be good, just in case we could find something out about him that way.” Pixel was the one to run over to where they had all the videos and digital software—his favorite place to go to in the library. 

He came back with only one disk in his hand. He looked slightly triumphant, yet there was still disappointment in his eyes, “I was only able to find this one, the others are missing. Seems the culprit really wanted to get rid of anything that was about Glanni.” 

“One is still better than nothing, “Trixie commented with a nod, “Let’s find a computer and play that sucker!” 

Already a few steps ahead, Pixel pulled out his laptop, before inserting the CD into the driver, “Let’s see what this is…” 

The screen lit up with a scenery that recognized: right in front of the town hall. Standing there was a man who looked to be a bit younger Mayor Meanswell as well as Bessie, but the other people the kids didn’t recognize. 

There were four kids like their group originally, and a man who wore a full black suit that a cat burglar would wear breaking into a bank. He was away from the group, looking terrified and pissed off all rolled into one. His eyes were dead-staring at somebody they couldn't see in the camera. 

A man wearing a police uniform stepped up to Milford, clearing his throat, “What should we do with this scoundrel Mr. Mayor?” The man was nobody the kids recognized, they didn’t even know there was a police officer ever in Lazy Town—there really didn’t seem to be a use for one since the kids had lived in the town. But still, here in the records there was one, “I say we lock him up in the jail until we can get proper authorities to take him away.” 

Milford nodded slowly, before glancing to the man who looked like Sportacus as he approached. He was similarly built to Sportacus and looked to have the same upbeat attitude as their hero, just a different style of outfit, and instead of the “10” printed on his clothing there was a “9.” 

“That must be Number Nine!” Stephanie pointed to the man wearing brown and yellow. She had to admit to herself, the blue and white was much better than the yellow and brown. The other kids nodded before Stingy shushed them. 

"I agree with Officer Obtuse on this one," Nine's voice spoke up from the recording. 

Back with their focuses on the screen they noticed that the black-clad man cringed when Nine got close to him, a wild look glimmering in his eyes. From there they watched as the police officer drug the the man into the town hall. 

The view quickly changed once they two disappeared behind the door bringing up the inside of the town hall, where the jail cells were. The timestamp in the corner showing that it was a few hours after the last recording. 

The man sat inside the cell, grumbling and pacing. He was alone. 

“Back in jail!” He sneered, glaring towards the door leading outside, “I had my freedom!” He yelled, almost in a fashion that Robbie Rotten did—arms pulled back as he leaned forward, “I would have made an even greater fortune on those idiots if it wasn’t for that,” he gave out a mocking voice, “Íþróttaálfurinn.” 

He waved a hand, turning his back to the door, “What kind of parent gives their child that stupid of a name?” He snorted, nearly throwing himself down onto the jail bed. The man remained silent for a moment, before letting out a dismayed sigh, “Probably had a parent who actually cared about him.” There was a moment when his eyes shone the sorrow, but was quickly washed away to be replaced with anger. 

He let out a low menacing growl, causing the group of kids watching to cringe back a bit, “Stupid flippity floppity elf! I should teach him a lesson!" 

Just then the door opened, Nine sauntering into the building. His eyes focused on the man behind bars, crossing his large arms over his chest, “Enjoying your stay there Glæpur?” Nine stepped closer to the cell, a smug grin on his face, “You should know that villainy never pays off, no matter how far you get in your plans," Nine leaned in closer, "Naughty boys go to jail." The elf's voice was full of snide pride. 

“Hah,” Glanni gave Nine a venomous glare, “Like you would know tight pants,” his gray-blue eyes turned to focus on the other, “All safe with your precious little hero life that you were so graced to have! And don’t give me that crap,” he imitated the voice of Nine, “’All people can be redeemed, it just takes work!’” 

The criminal sneered even more, “That’s the same crap they pulled on me, and look at me,” he presented himself with a dramatic hand gesture, “Back behind bars! But,” He grinned as he stood up, approaching the bars. 

He wrapped his thin fingers around the metal poles of the cell, leaning closer to Nine, “I won’t be here forever. The people of Lazy Town are gullible and as stupid as those idiots from the Mayhem Town Gang!” The eyes bore holes into Nine’s eyes, “I’ll slip out of here in the night, and you’ll have more to worry about than a little Sports Festival.” 

Nine stood there for a moment, silent in thought. Suddenly, his hand shot out, wrapping around the thin throat of Glanni. The elf leaned in closer, his voice low, “This is not a choice Glæpur, either you’ll do it willingly, or I will force you.” 

The man chuckled, leaning in closer, “What are you going to do? Force me out of my bed to exercise until I drop then shove vegetables and fruit down my throat? Or are you going to try to use a bit of a glamour spell on me?” A hoarse laugh escaped his throat before Nine tightened his grip. 

“Do,” Glanni gulped in as much air as he could why hissing, “Do your worst!” 

At that moment, Nine let go of him, before turning to the camera, “Since you gave me permission…” He sauntered over to the camera, before turning it off. The tape ended there. 

A few moments the kids remained silent, shocked by what they saw. They knew how Glanni Glæpur looked, and that Nine wasn’t the same hero as Sportacus. It almost scared the children how different Nine was. 

Stephanie was the first to break the silence, “Well… we know a bit about Glanni, and we can start looking for some more once we get those papers back.” The others gave a quiet agreement, still working on figuring out what they just saw. 

The mayor was right, the history of Lazy Town between Glanni and Nine was not the lightest of histories. 

They continued to think about the video as they left the library, quietly heading to Pixel’s house. 

Slowly, they started to return to their chipper upbeat state and began to plan their decent into the lair even before they were in the privacy of Pixel’s home. 

As they traveled, they didn’t notice a pair of eyes watching them, they fancy white fur collar gently being pet by one hand. The man lowered his head, his gray-blue eyes just barely visible under the rim of the purple-pink hat. 

He let out a low laugh, before hoisting himself up from the position against the wall, “What are those brats up to?” Another laugh and he snuck after them, keeping a distance between them. An amused hum came from him as he whispered to himself, "Be careful not to make a sound." 

Closer to the home, he heard them chatter among each other, speaking about all the plans they had. Something about gadgets, a billboard, a tunnel, and- wait a moment! They were talking about getting into the underground lair! 

A low menacing growl escaped the man, hunching his shoulder, “So they want to invade my home?” He snorted, pushing up the rim of the hat, “Didn’t Sportakook nicely teach them manners?” 

He tapped a finger against his chin, the gears in his mind beginning to work. He twitched his nose a few times, before an idea popped into his head, “Ah!” A loud evil laugh escaped him, before he lowered his voice, “That’s perfect!” He rubbed his hand together before turning back to the direction of the lair, “The brats won’t know what hit them!” With that, he vanished into the air. 

Trixie paused for a moment in front of the house, glancing over her shoulder, “Did you guys hear something?” The other kids took the position of looking around, before shrugging. 

“I didn’t hear anything,” Stingy commented. 

“Me neither,” nodded Ziggy. 

“Huh…” Trixie suspiciously eyed their surroundings, “Guess it was nothing,” though, she kept the occurrence filed in her memory just in case it was important later on. 

From there she entered Pixel’s house behind the others, excitement rising in her body. They were going to be real secret agents, sneaking into the lair of the beast and retrieving the classified files like they were the treasure of a lifetime! 

Sportacus sighed, running a hand through his hair before replacing the hat over his head, covering the tips of his ears. Bessie had gotten herself into a bit of trouble doing her laundry which required the hero to catch the woman as she was launched into the air. She hadn’t unclipped the sheet when she attempted to pry it off the line. Instead of it letting go of the line, she was flung into the air like it was a giant slingshot. 

Luckily, he quickly caught her before any injury occurred, and afterwards he helped her with the rest of her laundry—though, it was more him doing the laundry than him helping Bessie do it. He didn’t mind it in all honesty: he always enjoyed helping the citizens of Lazy Town. It was his job, and his life. It did take longer than he had expected though. 

The elf let out a sigh, taking a moment to get into his thoughts again. His mind was still plagued with worry: he still didn’t have a thing to help Robbie out. He knew he would find a way to make him disguise and try to trick people, but exactly how to do that was giving him problems. With the memories jumbled up would he still be annoyed when the kids were playing, enough to come up and try to stop them? 

He extended a hand up, shouting, “Ladder!” The rope ladder fell from the sky, hanging right next to him. There was one thing he had to deal with first before thinking too much farther into the problem: another possible source of information to aid in the endeavor. 

Swiftly Sportacus began to climb, reaching the platform that brought him into the air ship, “Up.” He commanded and the platform raised him into the main body of the airship. When it formed an airtight seal, he flipped off it, over to the wall. 

“Table! Paper and pen!” He called out to nowhere, a table sliding out from the wall, then both the paper and pen fell into his hands. From there, the elf began to write furiously, making sure not to leave out necessary details, but he also didn’t want to make it too wordy—too wordy and Nine might not have the time to read it all. 

He set down the pen, looking at the letter: 

_Nine,_

_I need to speak with you on an important matter. The subject of Glanni Glæpur has come up here in Lazy Town and we don’t know anything about him. I was counting on getting some help from you on this. If you can please send back a letter with the information at your nearest convince._

_Ten_

It always felt odd referring to himself as “Ten,” but that was the protocol for communicating with the other elves who took on the numbers of heroes. But, he didn’t have time to think about his discomfort of names now. 

Quickly he folded the paper into the shape of a paper airplane. 

Flipping over the table he turned to where all the sports equipment was stored. A small running start and Sportacus slammed a button hidden in the wall with his foot, before flipping back onto his feet. The cover over the equipment slid up, revealing all the various balls used in sports, tennis rackets, a hockey stick, a lacrosse stick, roller skates, a baseball bat, and then what he was looking for: the blue bowling ball. 

Humming he pulled out the bowling ball, turning it so the end that had a “T” shaped hole in it was facing him. He ran over to the table, picking up the paper. He flipped over, the table retreating into the wall. 

As Sportacus landed, he released the ball, watching as it rolled across the floor then out one of the holes in the wall, “That’s done.” He stood up straight and dusted his hands off on each other, “Now I should check how the kids are doing…” 

“Door!” Sportacus called out before doing a cartwheel over to the opening. Trotting outside he took a quick glance around the town from above. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary from up there. Comforted by the lack of brewing trouble, he whipped his head to his right to call out, “Ladder!” 

Once again, the rope ladder fell from the air ship, giving the elf a safe way down onto the ground. Agilely he jumped to the rope, taking time out only to be safe as he climbed down—he was rushing as if somebody was in trouble, yet it was only for visiting the children. 

The situation had really riled up the hero, making him a bit nervous for the safety of the children, and the safety of his lover. Just as he started building a relationship with Robbie, and had even started getting the villain to be a bit healthier, this happened. 

Sportacus let out a heavy sigh as he landed on the ground, "Don’t focus on it," he told himself, "focus on helping the kids and Robbie. If you do that you can keep them safe and get things to normal." 

Happy with that conclusion, he flipped and twisted on the way to the Mayor’s house where the kids previously were. 

“Alright!” Pixel proudly cheered as he typed on his computer, “I’ve got some gadgets set up for us to help get into Robbie’s lair. I’ve got my reconnaissance probe, the camera pen, and this device that will create a bubble around the target.” 

“Is it bubble gum?!” Ziggy bounced up and down. 

“No Ziggy,” Pixel shook his head, “It’s not edible either.” He let out a small laugh as the younger kid let out a disappointed ‘awe,’ “I also hooked up the walkie-talkies with a GPS tracker so I can know where you guys are at all times.” 

“Sweet,” Stephanie nodded as she picked up the walkie-talkie that was hers, the other kids following her lead. They had changed out of their previous outfits into ones that were different colored trench coats, sunglasses and hats donning their heads. 

One by one they picked up the gadgets, adjusting the pens into their pockets, and Stephanie taking the probe as well as the bubble device. She glanced to Pixel, noticing he hadn’t changed clothing, “Are you going to come with us Pixel?” 

The boy shook his head, turning over his shoulder to look at them, “I’ll be staying back here and monitoring things. If anything starts to look dangerous I’ll let you guys know so you have time to get out,” He added on before turning around, “Once you get to the hatch, release the probe and I’ll have it go in ahead to make sure Robbie isn’t there.” 

“Right,” Stephanie nodded, before heading to the door, “Let’s go agents and get those papers!” They all went to the door, leaving the house and slowly making their way through the town. 

Each kid would hide behind a wall, poking their head up every so often before signaling to the others it was safe. One by one they would move from wall to wall, checking and securing the perimeter. 

Eventually, after some time, the kids reached the billboard with the cow painted on it. Stephanie slowly approached the door that was cleverly hidden within the billboard. Cautiously she pressed a hand against it, pushing it open. 

Met with nothing but the metal of the hidden backside, she waved the others to come closer. 

The kids—or (excuse me) agents—gathered around the silo that contained the one entrance to the lair that they knew of. 

“Agent Megabyte,” Stephanie spoke into the walkie-talkie as she held it up to her face, “Agent Pink here, we’re at the entrance.” As she talked to Pixel, Stingy and Trixie worked on opening the hatch, “We are ready to deploy the probe, over.” 

“Alright,” Pixel nodded and began to type. In a few keystrokes the probe was activated, the screen coming to life with the feed from the device, “Probe is online, over.” 

The group of agents stepped back, giving the probe room to lift then descend into the pipe that lead deep down. Once it was in the pipe the four kids gathered around a tablet like device, getting the feed from the probe as well. 

For a few moments, the screen only showed the enclosing circular walls of the pipe, but eventually came into the main expansive room. Slowly it descended, turning in circles to see if it could spy the owner of the lair. 

After a few loops around the room with no sign of Robbie, Trixie held up her walkie-talkie, “Looks clear Agent Megabyte. We’re going to proceed into the lair, over.” 

“Proceed with caution Agent Trick,” Pixel responded, “Who knows what can be down there, over.” 

“Come on,” Trixie snorted as she started to climb the ladder to the opening, “We’ve already been down there and what could be the worst thing Robbie Rotten could do to us?” She grinned at the other kids, “Yell at us?” With one last snort, she jumped in, sliding down. 

Stephanie followed behind her followed by Stingy and then reluctantly Ziggy. They all landed with an _oof_ , nearly landing on each other. 

Trixie stood up, glancing around, “Alright we’re in!” She tried her best to keep her voice down with the excitement and trill running through her mind, “Let’s find those papers.” 

Stephanie glanced around the room, before turning to Ziggy, “Where did you put the papers, Ziggy?” 

The boy glanced around before finding a table he recognized, “That one there!” And with little thought he bounded over to the table. On the table was a few contraptions and metal parts, but no papers. 

“Huh?” Ziggy itched his head puzzled, “They were here before, but now they’re gone! It's like they vanished!” He looked back to the other three, before a sound from the back caused them to tense up. 

“Uh-oh…” Stephanie gulped, turning to the others, “Guys, hide!” 

She grabbed the probe and brought it with her as she hid behind the panel that was up on an elevated platform. Trixie hid behind the platform why Stingy hid behind the orange chair and Ziggy behind one of the large machines. 

In moments, the footsteps grew louder, humming coming through as well. Stephanie peeked over the top of the control panel, noticing the person whom had entered. It looked kind of like Robbie, but was wearing a purple-pink jacket with a fuzzy white color, the red and purple stripped pants underneath, and a purple-pink hat on top of his head, “Who’s that…?” She whispered to Trixie. 

The other girl shrugged before putting her finger to her lips. They had to be quite to not be caught. 

Gray-blue eyes scanned the room, a small smirk slipping onto his lips. He hadn’t expected the kids to go ahead and break into his lair that quickly. Honestly, he had expected them to come up with the idea and take a few days to get to the plan due to the exercise and their petty bed times—Sportacus wasn’t nearly as controlling as Íþróttaálfurinn was. 

It was quite intriguing why these brats wanted so badly to break into his lair after the very real threats he had made at them earlier—must be something they desperately wanted. Perhaps, he patted the jacket where something was hidden beneath the expensive fabric, they were after a certain thing rather than just to bother him. 

His eyes turned to the Automatic Wardrobe, staring at it for a moment. Did he hear something? 

He began to hum again, letting it flow like a song, “The worst villain that I know,” He began to walk towards the platform, “Worst villain that I’ve seen.” 

The man stopped just near the platform when a movement behind one of the machines caught his eye, “Because he is known for vicious tricks, villainy…” The tall thin body quickly and silently whipped around, his gaze towards the machine. 

His voice lowered into a singing whisper, creeping towards the location, “and formidable crime.” 

Quickly, Stingy signaled to Ziggy to move. The kid moved just in time before he was spotted. 

The lanky man stood up straight, glaring to his side. They were in here, he knew that and he knew where at least two were hiding. 

Behind the platform, Stephanie gently sat the probe down, pulling out her walkie-talkie, “Agent Megabyte,” she kept her voice low, “We’re in a situation right now and need imminent evac, over.” She waited for a moment, holding her breath. Her mind rushed with worry about making that call: did it bring the man’s attention over to her? 

Gray-blue eyes wandered their gaze over to the Automatic Wardrobe, a thin smile slipping on his lips. Another found. He slowly approached the middle of the room, continuing to sing to himself—or at least what the kids thought was singing to himself, “I’m talking about the villain Glanni Glæpur, and Glanni Glæpur is exactly who I am.” 

Glanni stopped in the center of the room, letting out a hum. He dropped all singing tone, hands gripping the soft fluffy collar of his jacket, “Hmmm, perhaps I was just hearing things,” He dramatically shrugged his shoulder before reaching into his jacket, “Then it must be safe to place these down.” 

In another dramatic fashion, he removed the papers from his jacket, getting a disgusted look as he noted the sticky substance on one of the papers, “Guh,” He stuck out his tongue before walking over to the table Ziggy had just been at. 

Gently he placed the papers onto the metal surface and patted them like they were a good dog. A hum slipped between his lips as he turned around, stepping back into the distance of the back of the large room. He pressed himself against the edge of one of the machines, waiting for the children to lurk out from their hiding spots. 

A hand rested against his jacket, a few papers still hidden beneath. The children should know some of the story, not all of it. 

These kids were just as predictable as the others: always looking to stick their noses into anything and everything they could! And this time he would catch them in their little game. 

When silent minutes passed by, Stephanie poked her head out from behind the control panel of the Automatic Wardrobe, “I think he’s gone,” She kept her voice soft as the others began to creep out as well. She didn't take the time to notice that the bubble device sat next to the temporarily discarded probe. 

They all began to creep towards the table, noticing that the papers were left there. Trixie let out of soft squeal of excitement, “The papers! He left the papers!” 

Stingy swiped up the papers, getting his fingers into the sticky residue of the lollypop Ziggy had stuck to the papers previously, “Ew…” He shivered before cleaning his hand off on Ziggy’s trench coat. 

“Hey,” Ziggy frowned at his friend, “What was that for?” 

“It’s the mess YOUR lollypop left,” Stingy stated, before turning back to the papers, “These are the missing pages from the History of Lazy Town book!” The others gasped both in shock and excitement. 

“Why would Robbie have these?” Trixie quarried, her eyes scanning the page on top. The picture depicted a man wearing the same purple-pink outfit that they had previously saw on the man in the room, but under the jacket was a bit of the pure black catsuit, or what they figured was the same suit they saw Glanni wearing in the video. 

“That’s Glanni, right?” Stephanie pointed at the picture, “But the words next to it say it’s Rikki Riki…” She quickly read a bit more, getting an enlightened look, “Oh!” The kids glanced to her for her to elaborate, “Rikki Riki was a name Glanni took to fool the people in Lazy Town.” 

“Ah,” Ziggy and Trixie expressed, nodding their heads. 

Behind them, the figure appeared from behind the machine, slowly creeping towards the group. A sinister grin was planted on his lips, approaching them. 

“Alright,” Stingy turned the page, reading to himself instead of reading it aloud. The others leaned in closer to get a look at the words. 

"You guys alright?" Pixel's voice came through the static on the walkie-talkies, "Agent Pink said you need an evac, over." Stephanie brought up her walkie-talkie, softly speaking, "Crisis averted Agent Megabyte, and we found the papers. We'll be up as soon as possible, over." 

"Don't take too long." 

“Did you hear something?” Trixie looked up from the papers, taking a moment to listen. Faintly there was footsteps—hardly detectable, but there. 

“I think I heard something…” Stephanie agreed, a small frown starting to form. She could feel something looming closer, "I think somebody is behind us..." 

The figure lifted his arms above his head, starting out with a low growl that almost sounded like he could have been clearing his throat, before it grew. Right as he let out the last bit of the growl, he swiped his hands down, grabbing onto the back of Stephanie and Trixie’s neck, “Got you!” 

The girls let out a shriek of surprise, reaching back to try to pry away the hand gripping their necks. Meanwhile the boys screamed out as well, backing away slowly from the man. 

“Ow!” Stephanie struggled, wincing in pain, “Let go!” 

Glanni let out a low laugh, dragging the two girls farther away from the boys, “Naughty brats,” he spat, “Get what they deserve!” 

“Then you should be in jail for the rest of your life!” Trixie growled as she kicked back, hitting the man right in the crotch, “And beyond!” 

A screech of pain echoed through the lair, the grip on the girls’ neck releasing. Quickly they darted back a few steps, watching as he doubled-over, hands over the injured location. Inside the jacket, a few more papers caught the eyes of the girls. He had some more! 

Stephanie approached with a hand extending out. Gently she reached into the jacket, getting a grip on the papers. Though, her hand never moved back, something strong holding it in place. The pressure grew around her wrist, eyes shooting up to gaze into the gray-blue eyes. 

“Let go!” She hissed under her breath, feeling the panic rise in her mind. She was in trouble, big trouble. The only thing that gave her comfort was that Sportacus would be on his way quickly, “What’s gotten into you Robbie?” She gave him a pleading look, “We are trying to help you!” 

“Help?” The voice that came out sounded that it would come from the stereotypical small cute kitten, probably from the pain he was feeling, “Little brats like you,” Gradually his voice returned to normal, “helping me? I’d rather deal with Íþróttaálfurinn again!” 

“Who…?” Ziggy rose an eyebrow, “Who's Ipro…tah…” The kid struggled to speak the name, before giving up. He donned a confident expression, slightly puckering his lips out, “Please Robbie!” 

“Yeah,” Stingy nodded, “With my help, we can get you all better.” The two boys started to approach the man slowly, hoping to help their friend out. 

“Robbie, Robbie, Robbie,” Glanni sneered, saying the name in a sing-song mocking tone. The low growl came out, pulling Stephanie closer to him. 

The gray-blue eyes narrowed, his voice raising in anger, “MY NAME IS GLANNI GLÆPUR!” 

In a blur, he was on his feet with an arm around the pink haired girl’s neck. He leaned his head down, hovering next to Stephanie's head. A thin finger ran down the length of her arm, “Maybe I’ll carve it into her flesh so you’ll always be reminded of it!” 

“Stephanie!”


	3. Tensions Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the kids in trouble and Glanni growing to become a bigger menace, Sportacus may just get some backup to help deal with the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! I bring the gift of the next chapter! Just a warning though: it gets violent at the end so be aware of that!

Sportacus was confused when he entered the mayor’s house and the children were absent. 

“Oh,” Mayor Meanswell smiled to Sportacus as the man pulled out a dish from the oven, “Welcome back Sportacus!” 

The hero glanced around the room before looking to the other man, “Hello Mayor, have you seen the kids?” 

“They went to the library to look up some of the history of the town.” 

“I’ll look there for them,” Sportacus nodded to the mayor, “Thank you for the information Mayor.” 

Before he had a chance to leave the house he was stopped by a voice, “Wait!” 

The mayor walked over to Sportacus with the dish still in his hands, a worried expression on his face, “The kids were looking up information about Glanni.” The uneasy feeling was flowing off the mayor like the wonderful smell of the dish he was holding, “I’m worried about how they will feel about the town history once they know it.” 

The man’s brown eyes lowered to the floor, “Nine wasn’t as kind as you are, and the things Glanni did to us and the town itself was not something I wanted them to find out until they were older.” 

Sportacus gave a small smile, placing a hand on the mayor’s shoulder, “It’s alright Mayor,” he gave him a reassuring nod, “I’ll make sure to talk to the kids about it and help them work through it. We can’t dwell in the past otherwise we won’t be able to make a future.” 

“Of course, Sportacus,” the smile caught onto Mayor Meanswell, “Thank you for that as well.” 

“Any time,” The hero chirped before dashing out of the house. Next stop, the library. 

He was in the middle of flipping over a wall when the crystal against his chest started beeping and vibrating violently. The glow was brighter than usual, meaning that something was wrong, very wrong. His mind blurred with the visions of all the kids down in the cold darkness, fear for one of the children: Stephanie. Her fear was thick, cries for help slipping from her lips as she struggled in the grip of the man. 

The fog of the vision lifted from his mind when he hit hard against the top of the wall. That would leave a mark in the morning. 

Sportacus hoisted himself up with one arm, before jumping onto his feet, “The kids are in trouble…” His heart sank saying those words, because they were in a heap of trouble this time. Quickly he vaulted off the wall, heading towards the billboard. No extra flips or summersaults or cartwheels or rolls; he moved in a linear path at a fast running pace. He couldn’t waste time, he couldn’t hesitate. There was no time. 

The only time he did flip was over the billboard, not wanting to take the time to stop, open the door, then go through. He hardly stopped to pull open the top of the small silo that lead into the lair. No time to hesitate, no time to waste. 

With a hop and a drop, he was on his way down through the hole. 

The kids cringed back, their eyes wide with fear. What could they do? Stephanie struggled against the grip around her, letting out a whimper, “Please… Robbie, you’re our friend…” Tears were streaming down her face, the fear more than apparent in her eyes. 

The low rumbling growl escaped Glanni, tightening his grip on her, “Brat!” He spat at her, shifting so his grip was square around her neck. The gray-blue eyes burned with anger as he raised her closer to his face, “That is Glanni Glæpur!” 

“But you look just like Robbie!” Ziggy retorted, feeling a rush of confidence with his friend in trouble, “You can’t be two people at once.” 

“Ah, ha ha!” Glanni shot a smooth yet menacing grin towards the kid though his dark laughter, standing up to his full height, “Ever hear of a disguise Zappy?” 

“That’s Ziggy.” 

“Whatever,” he spat, tightening his grip on Stephanie’s neck. For a few seconds Glanni breathed, calming down to a normal emotional state, “This ‘Robbie’ you call me mustn’t be very villainous.” A small chuckle escaped him as his eyes scanned the room then over the kids, “Especially since you guys are so chipper and I’m stuck down here. Perhaps you can say…” 

He returned his gaze to Stephanie, his lips curling into a cruel smirk, “I’m him, but stronger, and,” Glanni added with a mocking smirk, raising his finger to point at the girl's face, “Since your friends don’t get the difference, it’s time to give them an easy reminder!”0 

As he pulled a pocket knife from the jacket, another voice interrupted, “Stop right there!” Before a body slammed against the tall man. A shriek of surprise came out of both the man and the girl. 

Glanni toppled to the ground, Stephanie barely able to scramble away before she too was on the floor. She retreated to the others, checking if they were alright. With small nods, they all focused to the newcomer. 

“Sportacus!” They all cheered out when they noticed the blue uniform. 

On the ground, Glanni growled his deep animalistic growl, propping his upper half up on his elbows, “Well, if it isn’t the blue flippity floppity elf!” The sneer on his lips deepened, creating creases on his face. He snorted before pulling himself up with a grumble. His body ached a bit from the impact. 

Gray-blue eyes turned to focus solely on Sportacus, “The successor of Íþróttaálfurinn, Sportacus! Finally a face to the name.” The sneer quickly turned into a venomous grin, “I wonder how much you’re like him?” A hand gently brushed off the fur collar before shooting a glare to the kids, “I’ll deal with you,” a thin finger was pointed at them, “later!” 

“You won’t,” Sportacus placed himself between the kids and Glanni, hands on his hips in the super hero pose, “I won’t allow that.” 

Glanni hummed for a moment as he observed the hero, noticing how fit and formed he was. A warmness came to his cold heart seeing those bright blue eyes stare into his. An odd feeling, since the villain couldn't seem to recall ever meeting the young elf. 

A small shrug was given, “Very well then,” right before the man launched himself at the hero with a screech. The man might have not been as well built as Sportacus, but he did have the element of surprise on his side. Despite it though, Sportacus was taken back a few feet by the body slam. It was enough for Glanni. 

Quickly he turned on his heel, his other leg kicking up. The front-side of his foot collided painfully against the side of the elf’s face, not only surprising him, but the kids as well. 

“Sportacus!” Stephanie reached out a hand to him, her eyes wide with worry. Her brown eyes began to return their glimmer as the hero shook his head, the hat lopsided on his head, “You’re okay!” 

Sportacus gave her a wonky thumb up before focusing back on Glanni, “That the best you got? I don’t want to hurt you, but if you force me to,” his heart sank saying that: he could never heart Robbie, even if his memories were screwed up. Robbie was his villain, his love. 

The low laugh that came from Glanni signaled that he knew that as well, “Don’t use empty threats Sportaflop, it’s not going to help you or your image.” Slowly he sauntered over to the hero, swaying his hips with each step. There was a flirtatious and dangerous element to his footing. 

“Agent Pink,” Pixel whispered though the walkie-talkie, getting the attention of the kids, “Don’t forget about the Bubbler 6000.” 

“Oh!” Stephanie glanced back to where she had left the device along with the probe. It would be a long shot to go grab it since she would easily be noticed. But, she noticed that Ziggy was slowly crawling towards it. Next step was to make sure Glanni didn’t notice the change. 

Lucky for them his focus was on Sportacus. When their eyes turned around back to the hero and villain duo, they were met with the two rather… close to each other. One of Glanni’s hands were dangerously close to Sportacus’… well it looked to be his leg, though the redness in his cheeks made it seem different. 

The kids strained to listen to their conversation. 

“You need to remember who you are!” 

“And what if this is truly who I am, then what?” Glanni hummed, pressing his body closer to Sportacus, “What will you do?” 

“I will do my best to get back the man I love,” The elf’s half exposed ear twitched, his eyes glimmering with determination, “No matter what I will get him back.” 

"Love?" An eyebrow rose on his face, "A hero loves a villain? Quite a twist in the story," he added with a mumble, "That would explain this annoying fuzzy feeling in my chest." 

"You remember it? That's a start to getting back to normal!" The hero's voice raised with premature joy, "Yes, we do love each other!" 

“Did he say love?” Stingy rose an eyebrow. 

“Oh Sportaloser,” Glanni raised his hand, brushing it against the inner thigh of the hero, “You’ll have to accept the fact sooner or later,” He shrugged his shoulders before leaning his head close to Sportacus, “I’m here to stay.” 

“Haha!” Ziggy called out with a gleeful cheer as he held up the Bubbler 6000—apparently forgetting the need to be quiet, “Got it guys!” His voice dropped imminently when the gray-blue eyes turned to him, “Oh… No…” 

“Hmmm, what’s that?” Glanni gave a suave smirk as he hummed, taking steps closer to the group of kids, but more specifically Ziggy, “How about you hand it over.” His voice dropped to a dangerous tone, “Now!” 

“No!” Ziggy squeaked, trying to sound as brave as he could, “It’s not yours!” 

“Ziggy!” Stephanie and Sportacus called out, the pink haired girl standing in front of the boy. Sportacus bolted in front of them, stopping Glanni dead in his tracks. The hero planted himself right in front of the man, his taller yet thinner frame bumping against him. Sportacus could have sworn he saw some redness in the man's cheeks. 

“Out of my way!” Glanni hissed, trying to use force to shove the elf out of the way. Not his smartest move since the elf was much more built than him. The shove only moved the elf a fraction on an inch, but only his shoulder and upper body. 

Another blow was thrown at Sportacus, this one with his fist, but unlike the other it never made contact. Instead, his wrist was held in the grip of the elf. And before another swing was taken, that hand was swiped up as well. 

The man struggled in the grip, hissing out venomous words. In his eyes there was something Sportacus recognized: tiredness. Even if his memories were screwed up, there was still one fact that remained about Robbie and his body: he couldn’t take stress well, and he couldn’t stay active for a long period. Guess that was something Glanni didn’t know about. 

Each struggle became weaker, the gray-blue eyes starting to droop. Eventually, the movements stilled, his eyes barely open, “What….” He struggles to get out the words, “What did you do to me??” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Sportacus hummed, letting the man fall into his arms, doing his best to keep him supported with an arm around his waist, “I don’t think you’re used to that much moving around in such a small time, and you’re stressing yourself out.” 

“This… isn’t….” He didn’t get a chance to finish his words before gently passing out. He became limp, his breath calm and quiet as he breathed in and out. Sportacus put his arms around him, lifting the man up into his arms. 

“What just happened?” Ziggy approached, not quite sure it was a good idea to put down the Bubbler 6000, just in case, “What was he talking about with you?” 

The elf’s bright blue eyes turned to the kids, noticing their curious expressions—all except Stephanie who knew the truth in what the others didn’t know. He let out a heavy sigh, holding the unconscious villain close, “It’s going to be a long story, let’s get Robbie someplace to rest.” 

“Shouldn’t we lock him in a cell?” Trixie suggested, “For safety reasons.” She gave a slight smug grin, but let it trail off when she was given a look by Sportacus, “Okay no cell, but he should have an eye kept on him.” 

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” The hero concluded, taking another look at the face of the villain. So calm looking, a vast improvement on the expressions he had on before. It was peaceful and so, adorable. A smile slipped on his lips, giving the man a gentle kiss on the forehead, “I’ll take him up to my airship.” 

He didn’t give much of a chance for the kids to argue before heading towards the exit out of the lair. Stephanie followed close behind the hero, glancing up to the villain with worry in her eyes as well. Stingy exchanged a glance with Ziggy and Trixie before the three hurried after the other group. 

“Pixel,” Stephanie called into her walkie-talkie, “Meet up by Sportacus’ airship, we’ve got some explanations coming.” 

“Will do. Meet you guys there.” 

_____________________________________________________________________________ 

The kids sat patiently outside the door of the airship, listening to the movements inside the craft. So many questions flooded their minds, desperately wanting to know what was going on not only with Robbie, but between the hero and the villain. 

Sportacus climbed out of the airship, sitting down at the edge of the door, lacing his fingers together and letting them rest against his upper legs, “Alright,” he nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath. 

When he let it out, he began, “I will explain everything and talk with you guys about what has been happening, with everything.” He nodded to signal for the kids to begin their questions. 

They all blurted out at the same time, mixes of similar questions and then questions that seemed quite irrelevant and some that would take hours to fully explain, even a few from what Sportacus could catch of them that he didn’t even know that answer to himself. 

“One at a time,” he let out a sigh, before looking to Ziggy, “How about you ask first Ziggy.” 

“Oh ummm…” The boy got a worried expression, not sure which question to ask first—and not wanting to take one of the other kids’ question, “What is going on between you and Robbie?” The other three nodded slowly, agreeing that it was a good first question. Then they turned to look for the answer from Sportacus. 

“That’s a direct one,” Sportacus let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m not fully in an understanding about what it’s called, but from what Stephanie has told me,” he focused his eyes on the kids, “It’s called ‘dating.’” 

“I knew it,” Stingy gasped, his hands tightly held together, “I had my suspicions, but Pixel,” He shot a glare at the older kid, “Thought I was crazy.” 

“It sounded crazy at the time,” Pixel shrugged before looking to Sportacus, “How long has this been going on?” 

“A few months,” the hero was surprised about how easily the kids were taking the idea of the villain and hero getting along in the way they were. It gave his heart a lift from the painful experience of before. A smile even came to his lips. 

Trixie hummed in thought, glancing between the others then to Sportacus, “So, you guys have been putting on an act ever since then, that Robbie really doesn’t want you out of town.” 

“Sometimes that’s serious,” Sportacus laughed, shaking his head, “But that’s usually when I try to force him to change a few too many things about his lifestyle.” 

“That’s why he could run around a bit longer than normal,” Pixel let out an ‘ah’ as he came to realization, “I thought he was just getting more motivated.” 

“That’s partially the reason as well.” 

Stephanie interrupted with a concerned look, “Have you heard anything from Nine?” She hated to be the one to bring back the harsh reality, but she was deeply worried about the villain and what was happening to him. 

Sportacus understood the change, and he himself was keen on getting Robbie back to normal more than anybody else, “I haven’t heard anything from him yet. I’m hoping to hear from him soon.” 

Just then a sound caught their attention, almost sounding like an air glider coming closer. They turned their gaze up into the sky, noticing a blur of brown and yellow, before the glider compacted into the person’s back. They were still high in the sky as they made their decent. 

“Is he going to crash?” Ziggy voiced the worry, grabbing onto Sportacus’ arm, “Should we help him?” 

Upon seeing a bit more of the approaching man, Sportacus shook his head, half out of responding to Ziggy, another part in disbelief. He came. Instead of just writing back, Nine came all this way. 

He turned to explain to Ziggy when the man landed next to him, letting out a cheer of excitement, stretching his arms behind him, “Woo!” The man shook his head, bouncing in place, “Nothing like a free fall to get the blood pumping.” 

Sportacus stood up from his position, offering out his hand to the newcomer, “Welcome back to Lazy Town, Nine.” The children looked confused for a moment, noticing on the man’s back was the number nine. The elf took the offered hand in his, giving it a few shakes. 

“It’s Nine!” Stingy gasped, inching towards the man, “You’re like legend here.” The kid’s eyes gazed with awe at the newcomer elf. 

Íþró glanced down to Stingy, slightly confused by the sheer amount of admiration the kid had for somebody he had just met, “Ah, hallo,” he greeted Stingy and then the other kids. Only for a moment before turning to face Sportacus, “I got your letter Ten, and I must say it worried me that you were asking about such a vile man—as if there was a chance he was back to run amok in Lazy Town. That’s why I’m here,” He struck his hero pose, one hand on his hip and the other in a fist against his heart area, “I’ll make sure it isn’t him.” 

Íþró looked around the surroundings before speaking again, “Where is the man in question?” 

“He’s inside my airship,” Sportacus invited the other hero to enter the ship. As the older elf entered the ship, he turned to the kids, “Kids,” they turned their gaze up to the hero, hopefulness in their eyes, “I want you guys to go back home.” 

They opened their mouths to protest before Sportacus held up a hand to stop them, “I understand you are worried, but I don’t want you guys to have the possibility to get in harm’s way. I’ll make sure to keep you guys updated on what’s going on.” 

“Promise,” Ziggy held out his small pinky. 

Sportacus smiled as he looped the appendage with his own, “I promise, now get going,” he gently ushered them away, watching to make sure they left instead of hanging around in the distance. Once their figures vanished into the town square, only then did the hero head inside the ship. 

He entered to find Íþró staring intensively at the currently knocked out villain, “Who is this to you guys in the town?” The older elf glanced over his shoulder to Sportacus. 

“Robbie Rotten,” He tried to sound as neutral to the name as possible, but it was almost impossible for him to lie, and more specifically to lie to another one of the number heroes. 

“You have affection for the villain?” Íþró glanced at him with a look of disbelief, “I thought we were taught not to fall for such a vile creature. Or did you miss that training?” The older elf walked towards Sportacus, only a few inches taller than him, “What made you fall from grace to take such a risk?” 

“It’s a long story,” The younger elf frowned, hoping to get off the conversation and back to the real important thing, “But why did you ask who he was? I understand that you knew both Glanni and Robbie.” 

“I knew both, yes,” Íþró decided to drop the topic like Sportacus wanted, only because he was as eager to make sure it really wasn’t Glanni. His dark blue eyes focused back to the villain, “But it’s difficult to tell who it is right now. Like it’s both…” The older hero mumbled something under his breath. 

He reached out, gently turning the villain’s face side to side, examining each line and flow of the skin on his face as well as each breath he took, “I can’t tell from here, I’ll have to wake him up.” 

“I...” Sportacus started, but didn’t finish: his words would fall on deaf ears. If there was one certain thing he knew about Íþró, it was the fact he was stubborn and didn’t like things not going his way. 

The older elf lifted a hand, a dim yellow glow around his fingers. He gathered the energy a moment, glittering magic arching between his fingers, before slamming it against the villain’s chest—hard. 

In a flash the man jerked up, eyes wide with a bit of yellow flecked in the steely blue eyes. He gasped for air a moment, before coughing. A hiss escaped between coughing, glaring accusing daggers at the two heroes. 

Wait... two heroes? If was physically possible his eyes would have grown wider. Íþró. No, no no! Not him. 

“You!” Glanni spat, scrambling back in the bed until he fell of the edge, painfully onto his ass, “Get away from me you annoying elf!” Quickly scrambling to his feet, the man held up his hands, looking quite fearful of the hero, “Don’t you dare think about laying a hand on me!” He was like a cornered beast with its back against the wall, his fear quickly displaying anger, “I’ll break your bones!” 

Íþró let out a small growl, recognizing the sniveling and violent personality, “You’ve got a pest problem, Ten,” He didn’t bother to turn to face Sportacus, “This is Glæpur. It’s a very slim chance that the villain,” he made sure to emphasis that Robbie was just a ‘villain,’ “would remember my interactions with Glæpur.” 

“Robbie is Glanni Glæpur…?” Sportacus’ voice dropped, hardly able to believe it to be true. He knew Robbie could do great things, but never great terrible things like the tales of Glanni. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, his shoulders dragging down, “Then that device really mess up his memories, or dug up old forgotten ones.” It was foreign to him, and inside his heart felt heavy, starting to physically weigh him down. 

“What?” Íþró finally broke eye contact with Glanni, turning his attention to Sportacus, “What device?” His first mistake. 

Behind him the steely-blue eyes perked up, the anger and fear turning to a cold stare. The second mistake the elf made was no turning back to look at the villain as he circled behind him. 

“One of the devices Robbie made backfired on him, causing his memories to get mixed up,” the younger elf made sure to add, “That's what the kids and I predicted at least. It’s possible that it had a different effect, just brought up the old memories.” 

“What device is it?” Íþró rose an eyebrow, cocking his hips slightly, “I’m curious how he creates these machines without magic.” 

He wanted to explain but in a flash, he noticed Íþró’s expression change to one of pain. Beside him stood Glanni, his lips in a cruel grin, “I think you’ve gotten old Íþróttaálfurinn,” he pulled out the knife from the elf’s side, the silver blade coated in blood. 

“Never,” he laughed before stabbing it in again, “turn your back to me!” He pulled it out before kicking the elf to the floor, the low animalistic growl seeping from deep within. 

“I know that won’t kill you,” he shrugged his arms, glancing to the bloody blade, “But it’ll slow you down. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” his voice was pure mockery. 

“Well,” Glanni giggled to himself, running a finger across the blade, “That’s a lie.” His gray-blue eyes focused to Sportacus. 

There was a glint in his eyes, something familiar to the younger elf, “I really had hoped you wouldn’t call Ibrophen for help. It would have made things easier. Now I’m going to have to break his limbs.” He pressed his heeled shoe into Íþró’s back, getting grunt of pain out of him. 

The heel dug right into the gaping wound, going deeper by every second. 

“Don’t!” The frown felt like it was becoming a permanent mold to Sportacus’ lips as of late, “Don’t do it Robbie, please!” 

Glanni eyed him for a moment, the twisted grin growing, “Please?” He let out a roar of laughter, “Is that all you have in your arsenal? Is to beg me not to do it?!” 

He began to calm down, removing his foot from the elf’s back. A thought popped into his head, “Although,” he let out a sound like a purr, walking closer to Sportacus, “Perhaps if you begged enough, I’ll spare him.” 

“Don’t,” Íþró hissed under his breath, the pain coursing through his body as his magic worked to heal the wound, “Don’t even think about it Ten.” 

“Nobody asked you!” Glanni snapped at the fallen elf, kicking him in the gut. He smoothed out the fur on the jacket collar, as if to symbolize him smoothing out his emotions, “Make your choice Sportaclown: beg and he survives, or watch as I make him bleed all over this tacky floor you have in your precious airship.” 

“I…” Words failed him, his heart pounding against his chest painfully, threatening to burst right through his rib cage. Every muscle in his body tensed up, sending ripples of impulses through the nerves and into his brain. It was all on overdrive, panic clouding his judgement. 

He couldn’t beg! Not only was it degrading to do such a thing, but it was to the man he loved—or at least a form of the man he loved. On the other hand, he couldn’t let Íþró take the fall for his failure to stop the villain. Yet, couldn’t Íþró handle himself in a few moments? 

“Ugh,” The annoyed huff from the villain resonated in his mind, giving him enough time to notice the man dangerously close to him, “I would think it would be a simple answer.” Glanni hummed, before raising the knife to Sportacus’ eye level. This one was different than the other, it was red without the shimmering blood. Iron. 

That was really going to complicate things. 

“I’ll just raise the stakes then,” he mused, getting the blade closer to the younger elf, “And it’ll be an interesting conundrum for you to choose from,” a laugh slipped out, low and menacing, “So here’s your new choice: you or Íþróttaálfurinn.” 

“What?!” Both elves blurted out, light and dark blue eyes turning to the villain. One or the other would be in a great deal of pain, and that decision was all on Sportacus. It was something that couldn’t be taken lightly, with the heaviest of hearts. 

“I couldn’t make a decision like that!” Sportacus held his breath, feeling a twinge of fear when the steely eyes focused on him. Fear was so unusual, so foreign to him. He had fears, yes, but they never showed on the outside—they were always kept in. Now with his lover acting different, in fact nearly a whole different person, it was hard to keep it in. He couldn’t stop it from slipping between the cracks in his defenses and he couldn’t stop it from pouring to his surface. 

His heart felt as if it was being torn in half, shredded into little pieces before burned to ash. How could things so south so fast? 

“Tick tock Sportacus,” Glanni grinned, leaning closer to the elf, “Otherwise I get to choose, and it won’t be pretty for either of you.” 

For a few heartbeats, he held his breath, the pointed ears twitching under the confinement of his blue cap. It was a hero’s job to put others before himself, to make sure to rescue them—even if it was another of his kind. Everyone was always first. 

“I will,” He finally pushed out the words, feeling the weight grow even denser. The feeling got even worse when he heard no objection from Íþró. 

Glanni’s eyes had trailed over to the same person, but a grin was on his face comparative to the deep formed frown on Sportacus’ face, “No objections Íþró?” He snorted, forcefully grabbing Sportacus under his jaw, “Not surprised. Little Sportacus seems to fit the bill of being a hero more than you do.” 

The only response that came from the older elf was a low groan. He was still in pain, his magic doing its best to heal him up quick and cleanly. 

Closer the taller man drew the hero to his own body with a hand around his waist, the grin slowly turning into one of suave charm hiding the sinister darkness beneath it, “I won’t use the iron,” Glanni purred into the elf’s ear, “But this is still going to really,” he paused to add emphasis, “REALLY, hurt.” 

The red blade was slipped neatly into the pink-purple jacket, concealing it from the prying eyes. Next, Glanni revealed the blade still dabbed with the blood from another pocket, letting it rest tenderly against the elf’s shoulder. 

The painful tensing of Sportacus’ muscles became nearly unbearable, and even more so when the hot agonizing pain shot through his shoulder, feeling the force of the blade as it cut into his flesh, easily ripping through the skin down to the muscle. It seared through the length of the muscle fibers, the screams caught in his throat. 

Slowly, the blade was drug down, little by little leaving a large gash through the fabric of his jacket and shirt as well as his flesh. His once bright, clean blue uniform was becoming darkened with his own blood. 

Finally, the blade left the flesh right above where his pectoral stopped, leaving the exposed flesh painfully sensitive. The only thing that could escape the elf was a pained whimper, the corner of his eyes becoming wet with threatening tears. 

“Too strong to scream?” Glanni pressed his head against the side of Sportacus’ face, humming as his free hand started from the elf’s hip gradually raising up to the wound, “Or do you not know how to?” 

Another laugh slipped out the moment his fingers touched the open flesh, feeling the body against his tighten, a hiss of pain coming from the other. 

“You know what’s my favorite part?” The villain’s voice was low and soft, a rough whisper in the ear, “Besides how much I enjoy this, little Ibuprofen isn’t doing anything to stop me.” He moved his head, eyes meeting the watering bright blue eyes, “And we both know he should be healed by now. Must make you feel special, hmmm?” Roughly he pulled the fingers feeling around inside the flesh up, expanding the opening further. 

“I—gah!” Sportacus attempted to speak out, only to feel a sharp pain in his leg. He couldn’t glance down to get a look, but when Glanni’s other hand came up to gently stroke his jawline, it was a good guess that the knife was wedged in his thigh. It was all piling up, bringing him further and further into the pit with no ladder out and no support to keep his head above the water. He felt hopeless for the first time in his life. 

“Why the long face?” Another hand met his cheek, the thumb gently rubbing back and forth, getting bits of blood smeared across his skin, “Are you afraid, of dying?” Glanni leaned in farther, his lips brushing against Sportacus’ lower lip, “Or afraid of something else?” 

Another laugh before a sharp nip was given to his lip. The low voice kept quiet, a strange affection resonating in it with every word he spoke, “I hope you don’t break down too quickly. It would be a shame for my one affection to crumble. We both seem to know: We love each other.” 

Glanni angled his head, giving gentle kisses along the length of the elf’s neck, sneaking in painful bites between, running his lips against the sensitive skin, and even taking a moment to suck a small spot that would be leaving a nasty bruise to form in the coming time. 

All Sportacus could let out was a gasp, his ears quivering under the cap, a redness spreading across his face and heat radiating off his body. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, it wasn’t Robbie! Well—yes technically it was Robbie, but at the same time not. It still wasn’t right. 

It all fell apart quickly when he couldn’t hold it back anymore. The low full body growl seeped out from Glanni, before he found the real sensitive spot: his ears. The hat was quickly discarded to the side, a slender finger tracing the outline of the twitching ear, before a kiss was given to the tip. 

He lost it. In that moment, Sportacus completely melted, letting out a giggle mixed with a moan. The untouched ear felt cold compared to the other, both angling down in an attempted to hide them, or at least deter the man away from them. This touch was just like his villain’s touch, tender and affectionate. 

Another kiss and another nip. They continued one after the other, ranging from the tip all the way down to the lobe, each meticulous and rougher as they passed, working to slowly break the elf down into a blushing, bleeding mess. 

And through it all, Sportacus began to realize: he was alone on the ship with just Glanni. He was completely at the criminal mastermind’s mercy. Íþróttaálfurinn was gone. 

There was little room to go back, and little chance to make it out. But, through all the euphoria and endorphins running through his blood and the dopamine clouding him with pleasure, he didn’t know left from right. He couldn’t even remember his own name for a few beats. He had forgotten the broken and burned heart of his, wishing to fill it with something. It was not Robbie… Or maybe, it was. For the time, his mind didn’t care about the difference. It was the comforting touching of his Robbie and that’s all the mattered to his mind.


	4. Here's a Little Lesson in History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Íþróttaálfurinn is not all he's cracked up to be: secrets of the past reveal who he was and what happened between him and Glanni.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mainly consists of flashbacks explaining Íþróttaálfurinn's past as well as his actions, and his interactions with the MayhemTown Gang and Glanni. Hope you enjoy it!

It felt horrible—beyond awful. In all honesty, he was sickened by his own actions. A hero running away! Hah! That was going to look good for him. Embarrassing, humiliating, outrageous! Every fiber of his being told him to turn back, to jump in to rescue Ten. Yet, he kept going, not looking back. 

_Coward_! He could feel himself cursing to his actions. _You’re a hero! You are Nine!_ Still, his breath was heavy against the confines of his body, pushing the air through his lungs in large amounts as he ran. He still felt sore from the stab wound, the muscles screaming in pain every step he took, limiting him to run rather than flips or jumps. 

Suddenly he felt something collide with his lower body, sending both toppling to the ground, “Ah!” He felt the shot of pain run down his back from the wound up. A groan slipped out as he rolled himself over, glancing over a shoulder to see who he ran into. 

The pink haired girl. Quickly—as quick as the wound would let him—Íþró stood up, offering a hand out to help the girl up, “I’m sorry about that,” he paused, not knowing the girl’s name. 

“It’s okay,” She smiled a bit, taking the offered hand, “And my name is Stephanie.” In a moment Íþró hoisted her onto her feet, brushing dirt and dust off her. 

“Hallo Stephanie,” The older elf smiled, though it wasn’t nearly as bright and cheerful as it should have been meeting a new person, “You know me by Nine, but perhaps you can call me Íþróttaálfurinn instead.” 

“That,” Stephanie scrunched up her nose, internally trying to say the name to herself, “That’s a hard name to pronounce.” 

“Then you can just call me Íþró,” He nodded, noticing the smile brighten the girl’s face. It still was strange, introducing himself as Íþróttaálfurinn instead of just ‘Nine.’ It connected with the people better to have an actual name. He always remembered never giving his name out, mostly because he didn’t want people to get too close with him and what power if gave over an elf—one day he would leave and never see them again, so why get to know them only to break their heart and leave them forever? 

“That works,” the smile only grew on her face. Then, it dropped as worry clouded her once cheery brown eyes, “Where’s Sportacus?” 

The question paled the elf, his ears dropping beneath the orange hat, “He-ah…” a hand raised, rubbing against the back of his neck, “He’s back on the airship.” 

“Alone?” Her eyes showed no hostility, yet Íþró felt as if she was glaring accusing daggers at him, hearing those negative thoughts go through his head. She was going to judge him harshly for his actions, just as he was doing to himself. 

“Is everything settled with Robbie?” More questions, more accusing glares and more horrible thoughts circulating. 

“I…” For once his voice showed no confidence, a somber tone replacing it, “I don’t kno-” he cut off when the pain rose again, feeling the wound open. He overdid it just by running—boy was he getting old. 

Slowly Íþró fell to one knee, wincing as he did so. 

“Are you okay?!” Stephanie rushed to his side, placing a hand on one of his knees, staring him with wide worried eyes, “Did you get hurt?” 

“It’s just,” another wince from the elf, “It’s just a scratch.” 

The girl eyed him, before giving a look that said she wasn’t buying it, “Let’s get you to my uncle’s house and I can get the first aid kit!” She didn’t give him a chance to argue before nearly dragging him along with her. 

Children were unique to Íþróttaálfurinn: they were full of energy and eager to move around and help others. They were perfect heroes themselves, but in his younger days he never saw it that way—they were another group of people to be saved, to be trained into a better, healthier lifestyle. Now, he understood them a bit better. Kids had a mind of their own, they grew up, and with age they started to change. 

He didn’t like the idea of people growing up and changing. It meant he had to say goodbye, that he had to give them up. The elf wasn’t comfortable with that at all. Still, time went on even if he didn’t want it to, and eventually he decided it was best to not make connections. Now back in LazyTown, he only recognized two people—the rest were strangers besides Ten, Bessie and the Mayor. 

Stephanie seemed unique as well: eager to help those who are supposed to do the helping, even if he just left their hero back with… Glæpur. His heart sunk once again. 

Dragged along, Íþró and Stephanie entered the living room of her uncle’s house. He was gently sat down on the nearest chair before the girl ran into another room, fetching the first aid kit. 

“This is not necessary,” the elf nervously called across the room, “I’ll be healed up in a bit,” another wince came over his face as if the wound was proving him wrong. 

“You sound exactly like Sportacus,” Stephanie couldn’t help but laugh a bit, coming back with the kit, her arms securely wrapped around it, “This helps with the process to go faster.” She stopped in front of him, “Where does it hurt.” 

When he pointed to his back, the girl gently helped him move to look at the location. 

“Oh dear,” She frowned when noticing the darkened circle of blood that formed in his top, as well as the slit through the fabric, “That looks like a really bad wound!” Her eyes turned to the elf, “I might have to disinfect it.” 

“It’s not necessary,” he felt like a broken record player already, “My magic will-” he stopped his words, noticing the girl staring right at him. Not through him, dead into his eyes. It was almost intimidating. 

“If it gets infected it will take your magic longer to heal it,” Stephanie stated with a matter of face tone to her voice, “Sportacus learned that the hard way and I don’t want it to happen to another.” She gave him a look, “So can you let me clean it up?” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Íþró reluctantly complied, slipping off both the vest and his undershirt to give optimal room for the girl to work. 

It was a bit cold without his shirt on. 

They sat in silence, an occasional grunt of pain escaping the elf when the disinfectant was dabbed onto the wound. If only his magic was instant. 

Finally, he was the one to break the silence, his voice soft, “I’m sorry for what I did…” She let out a hum, not quite catching what he said, “I left Sportacus behind with Glæpur, like a coward.” His voice went even softer with a hint of venom at himself, the pointed ears low, “Seeing him again reminded me of everything—things I never wanted to think about again.” 

“What do you mean?” Stephanie paused in the cleaning, glancing to the side of the older elf’s face. His head was hung down, eyes closed and a frown etched into his lips. His normally squared shoulders were slouched over. 

“We were taught training to become heroes that we cannot dwell in the past,” Íþró sighed, “Otherwise we have no future.” Yet, he was dwelling on his past more than anybody. 

“And you’re dwelling in the past?” The girl set down the cotton ball, positioning herself in front of the hero, “Why?” 

Another sigh, his hands covering his face, “You don’t know about the history of LazyTown?” His gaze raised up, his back still hunched over, “I wasn’t the nicest hero—nothing compared to Ten. I would make people come out of their houses to exercise, and if they didn’t participate or ate junk food the town would ridicule them…” his voice went heavy, “And I would encourage that behavior. I wasn’t the hero I thought I was.” 

“I made them gullible enough to believe everything Glæpur told them,” his dark blue eyes turned to Stephanie, taking off his hat to reveal the floofy dark brown hair and the pointed ears, “After all of that, I didn’t realize that I was partially at fault for what happened. I only realized it,” his ears dropped, “after I started training Ten. He made me realize that I wasn’t the hero I thought I was.” 

“You trained Sportacus?” The brown eyes lit up, curiosity filling her expression, “Did you teach him everything he knows?” 

“Most of it,” Íþró let out a laugh, shaking his head, “He learned quickly and took what he saw was fit for his hero life. He was smart not to take all the I told him.” The thought that Ten could have ended up regretting so much like he did was an awful thing. 

“I do want to know,” Stephanie returned cleaning the wound, being gentle as possible, “what happened between you and Glanni Glæpur after you caught him. A lot of the history about him is missing,” She added with a hum, “We got some of the torn pages out of Robbie’s lair when we went down there, but the other kids have it. Pixel and Trixie are working on putting it back in order.” 

“Do you want to know?” Íþró glanced over his shoulder to her, a frown forming on his lips. His thin mustache twitched a bit, “I’m not proud of it now… but,” he hummed sadly, “If it helps I’ll do what I can.” 

“I can handle it,” Stephanie reassured with a nod, beginning to tape the gauze over the wound, “The only thing we found was a recording after Glanni was put in jail. You visited him and then the video was stopped. 

“Very well then,” the elf tried to face her, only to feel the twinge of pain from the wound. Deciding against it, he just kept his eyes fixed in front of him, “I can start from there…” 

__________________________________________________________ 

“So secretive,” Glanni mused at Íþró’s back, eying him as the elf disabled the camera that focused on the cell, “Are you afraid the town will see you for who you really are?” The grin hardly wavered when the hero turned back around to face him, “Or rather is it for the future?” 

That seemed to strike a nerve on the hero, getting the grin to curl into a cruel smile, “Poor little elf,” the criminal leaned back, his hands keeping him propped up as they gripped the metal bars of the cell. A laugh slipped from his throat mixing with the full body growl, “So afraid of the people finding out you aren’t the perfect hero!” 

“Shut up,” Íþró hissed between clenched teeth, approaching the bars, “You have no room to talk. A villain has no room to ridicule me about being a good hero!” He slammed his forearm against the bars, getting Glanni to jump a bit. 

“I may not be the storybook hero,” the elf growled, “But you’re no storybook villain either. The only thing you have in common with those kinds of villains is the fact you fail in the end.” 

“Oh, ho,” the sinister grin returned to Glanni, leaning back towards the bars, “Are you implying that I’m not evil, sweetie?” His hand slipped between the bars, gently caressing the jawline of the hero, “Because you’d be wrong about that.” 

“I don’t care if I’m wrong about that,” Íþró reached up, latching onto the wrist near his face. Forcefully he yanked the hand away from his own face, receiving a hiss of pain from the owner of said limb, “I do care for what you did to my town.” 

The grin didn’t waver or grow, quickly the thin arm was jerked away, receding back into to comfort behind the bars. The other hand gently rubbed the offended hand, “They would have been just fine if _you_ ,” the word was snapped, “didn’t come back! I would have been nice and left them healthier if you didn’t regrow those disgusting plants!” 

The low ominous chuckle slipped out of Glanni’s throat again, “So, in reality it’s your fault they got poisoned,” a finger pointed to his own self, “not mine.” 

“You were the one who poisoned them!” Íþró snapped back. 

“Let’s not get into the fine details,” the criminal waved a hand—ignoring the look of utter skepticism from the hero, “the point is that it seems you are quite careless. And a careless hero is going to end up with only corpses to take care of.” 

He hummed, turning his cold gray-blue eyes to Íþróttaálfurinn, “And wouldn’t that be a blow not only to your precious reputation, but that big ego of yours.” 

“Are you suggesting something?” Íþró sneered, closing the gap between the bars and his body, his muscles tensing up, “Because to me it sounds like you are threatening the townspeople.” 

In a heartbeat Íþró’s hand latched back around Glanni’s throat, forcing the villain right against the other side of the bars, their faces dangerously close, “I will break you so quickly if you lay another hand on them!” 

“Oh,” Glanni puckered up his lips, slightly angling his head to the side, “Testy aren’t we elfy?” A hum seeped from his pink lips, before pressing ever so closer. In a moment, their lips met for a forceful kiss, ending as quickly as it began. 

The hero pulled away, quickly releasing Glanni, using those fingers to run over his lips, wiping away the feeling and the taste of the others lips. Was that cherry lipgloss? Dark blue eyes whipped back to the villain, seeing him tumbling over in a fit of laughter. It was all fun and games to this insane man. 

“You’re insane…” Íþróttaálfurinn hissed gazing down at the villain, trying to stuff down the feelings that pumped through his mind and heart. His lips tingled from the contact, sending a rush of scrambled emotions through the elf. 

“That’s beside the point,” Glanni snorted, calming down from the laughing fit. Steadily he raised on his feet, a few snorts escaping him. His cold steely eyes noticed a flicker in the dark blue ones of the elf—something was interesting to him. 

“Did you enjoy that?” The criminal’s lips twisted into a grin, approaching the bars once again, “You really aren’t the storybook hero, darling. Falling for the villain,” he tutted at the hero, “Isn’t that against your rules?” 

Íþró remained silent, still trying to understand what had happened. With a shake of his head, he focused his eyes on the villain, “I’m not falling for you,” he approached the bars again, a stern expression washing over his face, “I would never fall for a villain.” 

“So instead you are going to beat me for it?” Glanni laughed, batting his eyelashes, “Or is there something else you have planned for me?” He swayed his hips in a flirtatious manner, getting a rouse from the hero. 

“N-no!” Íþró stammered, feeling the hot blush on his cheeks. By now he’d completely lost his track of mind, having to struggle to think straight, “Don’t,” he hesitated, taking a step away from the cell, “Don’t think about doing anything—I will stop you if you do.” 

Turning to the door, the elf began to leave. His heart oddly skipped a beat when he heard the low growl from the villain. Something was messing with him, that’s why he was feeling this way. He didn’t even stop when he heard the man call to him. 

“You’ll be back Íþróttaálfurinn!” 

__________________________________________________________ 

“Íþróttaálfurinn!” The panicked voice of one of the kids brought the elf’s attention away from the mayor and Bessie. The group of kids ran up to him, panic stricken, “There’s a problem! Somebody broke into the Town Hall!” 

Íþró gave an apologetic look to the two adults before bolting to the Town Hall where the jail cells were held—the children not far behind him as he flipped and twirled in the air. 

The door was slammed open, only to find the interior completely empty of any living soul besides those that just entered. This included the cell where previously the criminal was locked away in. 

“Oh no!” The youngest of the group fretted, “Glanni got free.” The others frowned, looking up to the hero for some comforting words. 

Íþróttaálfurinn continued to stare in horror at the empty cell, noticing that the keys were hanging out of the lock. Strewn on the ground was spend cigarettes and on the adjacent wall to the cell was the words _“Latibær er núll, Glaumbæjargengið er númer eitt”_ spray-painted in bright pink letters. 

“Glaumbæjargengið…” Íþró growled under his breath, approaching the wall. Two fingers ran over the name of the very town he was in, his fingers getting stained pink—the paint was still wet, meaning the group hadn’t been gone for long, “Stay here kids, I’m going to go after them.” 

Without waiting for a response, Íþró dive rolled out the open window. He had to stop them for whatever reason they wanted Glanni free. 

“This isn’t good…” The elf grumbled under his breath as he flipped over a wall, “How did he convince those guys to help him?” Rumors were said around the town that the boys from MayhemTown Gang assisted Glanni back when he was free, but to motivate those guys to do anything was a feat itself. 

As he landed on the ground, he was greeted with the sight of three figures scrambling to their feet, cuts and bruises all over their body with their coats torn in places. The largest of the group with a purple hat was the first to stand up straight, letting out wheezing coughs, “Ow… That wasn’t very nice.” 

The other two grunted their agreements as they fixed their own hats. The two other MayhemTown Gang members were smaller than the one with the purple hat, having their own signature colors of orange and yellow. 

“Why did he turn on us like that?” The one with the orange hat itched the accessory on his head, “I thought we were pals with him.” The two companions nodded and mumbled, slowly turning around. 

They all let out a gasp when they noticed the yellow and brown clad elf, scrambling to try to flee. Instead of getting out, they ran into each other causing them to fall once again onto the ground. 

“Where’s Glæpur?” Íþróttaálfurinn approached them, his chest puffed out and his eyes serious, “What happened?” 

His gaze softened noticing that the three showed clear signs they were in pain. Íþró reached out an inviting hand, his expression changing to one of worry and concern, “Come on, you should come back to town and get patched up—it looks like Glæpur did a number on you…” he hesitated for a moment, “If he was the one who did that to you.” 

“Yeah,” The tallest of the group hesitated, “He’s the one who did this to us.” 

“Turned on us like a wild animal!” The orange hatted one commented with a squeak, “barely gave us a warning before he lunged at us with a knife!” 

“Told us that we were useless and then attacked us,” the one with the yellow hat huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Rude of him.” 

“Uh-huh,” the other two nodded in agreement before all three turned to Íþróttaálfurinn. They expected the hero to turn on them from the rumors that the criminal told them, but instead he gave them a sympathetic smile. 

“Come on,” Íþró waved to the three, beckoning them to return to town, “you can explain everything back in town as they help fix you up.” 

“We’ll be fine,” the tallest nodded, glancing to the other two, “Not the worst to happen to us.” 

“Are you sure?” The elf hero frowned, his ears dropping beneath his hat. 

“Sure as sure gets,” the smallest confirmed, “Glanni went that way by the way,” the three pointed towards the northern direction. With the classic striking of pose for their gang—hands up one at a time into the air, then rush back to the ground with a “whoosh”—they slunk on out of sight. 

Íþró watched each figure as they slipped into the growing darkness of the night. He worried for them even if they weren’t the must outstanding citizens of the local region. Not a living soul deserved to be treated in such a way. 

It brought a sharp pain to his heart, knowing that he acted the same way at times: it was fear that made him strike out. He always felt like crap every time he lashed out, especially with the possibility that the kids were around. What kind of role model was he to hurt somebody in front of the children? 

There was always that fear inside him that one point he may hurt them. That would never happen, the hero would make sure of it. Train on targets such as clumps of hay or the training dummies he had made to help train his soon to be apprentice and that would take away all those extra feelings. It was a perfect fix for him, at least until Glanni unnerved him. 

A heavy sigh slipped from the hero before he started out in a run, heading in the direction where the MayhemTown Gang members said Glanni had gone. There was a chance he could catch up to the criminal and bring him back in. 

His footsteps echoed with each patter they made against the ground, kicking up bits of grass as the lifted above the surface. On occasion, they would bounce off the hard earth as Íþró launched himself into the air to flip, or fall into step with each other as he cartwheeled. 

Finally, his steps silenced, coming to a halt. All around in front of him was a drop off, leaving nothing but the open-air hovering past the edge of land. A complete dead end. There was no way Glæpur could have gone any farther—if he had even gone this way. It wasn’t as if the criminal could fly. 

Íþró stared out over the edge, gazing to the distant land beyond the drop, seeing each wave of water crash against the rocky shore. It was nice, listening to the faint sound; the waves were a comforting sound after such a panicked run—they would always remind him of back home. 

Though, Íþró quickly shook his head: he couldn’t focus on home now. With no sign of Glanni in his run from Latabæ, it meant the criminal was free—just like he had taunted before. With a mind clouded by worry and disappointment in himself, the hero returned home. 

__________________________________________________ 

“After that,” Stephanie frowned, now finished patching up the wound on Íþró’s back, “you never saw Glanni again?” 

The older elf shook his head, stretching out his arms, “Never. Things were quiet for months after he vanished. I informed the other elves about it, but none of them ever caught wind of him. I could have sworn he just fell off the face of the planet.” 

“What made you change your mind about that?” The pink haired girl moved to in front of the hero, sitting down on the chair across from him. 

Íþró frowned, the familiar feeling of regret and self-loathing rising up as a lump in his throat, “I mistook Robbie Rotten as Glæpur the first time I saw him. I swore that they were the same…” he paused, his lips forming into a deep frown, “I panicked the first day Robbie came to socialize with the townspeople. He seemed so much like that monster that I assumed he was.” 

“I ended up getting him labeled as the villain, even threatening him if he tried to do anything to the people…” Íþró felt sick just thinking about his actions, “I did things no hero should do—even if I was scared.” 

“You didn’t mean to do any of it?” Stephanie questioned, leaning closer to the hero. Getting a nod in response, it brought up another question that had been stewing in her mind, “Íþró,” the elf perked up a tad at his nickname, “When you first met Robbie, was he rotten and unsociable?” 

“No, not that I saw,” The hero hummed sadly, “The first time I really got a look at him was at one of the kids’ birthdays. Honestly,” he let out a huff, “He seemed to get along with the kids very well. It was one of the kids’ first birthdays—Pixel’s I think.” A smile slipped to his face, fondly remembering that birthday. 

“Robbie gave the kid a machine that did something I couldn’t even understand,” Íþró laughed a bit, his mind recalling every detail about that day: the smells, the colors and the streamers. Each happy giggle and cheer from the boy. It warmed his heart to remember those times, “I feel horrible for what I did to him… I made Robbie into the villain because I was afraid he was Glæpur—turns out my hunch was correct, but maybe…” 

Íþró trailed off for a moment, closing his eyes, “Maybe if I had been more welcoming, Robbie wouldn’t have ended up the villain. Perhaps, I could have helped him turn things around—help him become the hero he wanted to be as a kid.” 

“Robbie wanted to be a hero?” The girl sounded as if she could hardly believe it, “How did you know that?” 

“It’s a gift,” the elf gave a small laugh, “My magic helps me see what dreams people have,” he focused his dark blue eyes on Stephanie, “Like I know you want to become a famous dancer when you grow up.” 

His smile only brightened when the girl smiled at him. 

“As a child Glanni had the dream of becoming a hero, saving children from having the same cruel fate he had of living with uncaring, abusive parents. He gave up on that one after he got expelled out of school and especially after he ran away.” The hero’s heart went out to the young Glanni, wishing he could have been there to pick the kid out of the deepest darkest part of his life, maybe to even help the guy become the hero he wanted, “He was afraid, wishing there was a hero there to help him. When nobody came, he started to lose hope. Eventually, he gave up.” 

“Instead of becoming a hero, he turned to crime and villainy,” Íþró sighed, running his hand across the back of his neck, “Everything became about survival, self-gain and self-preservation. After all the crimes and heinous acts, all his dream became was to become rich and powerful, feared by those who once mocked him, admired by people while he hid his true venomous nature. His once good nature became poisoned with rot and disease. He poisoned everything he touched, dragging others down into the pit of despair with him: if he was going down he would take people with him.” 

“When I met Robbie, I could still sense that want to be a hero, but it was clouded by the dark intentions that had been drilled into his mind as Glanni. No matter what happened, I think, he would have become the villain again.” 

“Do you think it’s possible to bring out that good in Robbie again?” Stephanie quarried, her brown eyes lighting up with hope, “If we can bring out the good in him, maybe he won’t be so lonely and grumpy.” 

“If anyone can do it,” The older hero laughed softly, “Ten can do it. He’s stronger than I could have ever hoped when I was his age. He’s too harsh on himself though,” Íþró shook his head, “I hear he calls himself a ‘slightly above average hero’ even though I’ve told him many times he’s at the level of a superhero. He may not excel in magic as I did at his age, or be able to run as far or as fast as I or the other heroes before him could, but he has one trait the rest of us have missed for so many years.” 

“What is that?” The pink clad girl tilted her head. 

“Empathy. He did what none of us ever dared to do for those who fought against us,” the dark blue eyes wandered off towards the distance, “He showed them kindness, treated them as if they were another living person rather than a villain. The way he looked at Glanni…” he shook his head to correct himself, “how he looked at Robbie, it wasn’t that of a hero looking at a villain: it was a living being to another. A lover to the one he gave his heart to.” 

His eyes turned back to Stephanie, a growing glow in them, “I thought to love somebody so deeply, let alone a villain, was something of weakness, that it would never be returned and that it would only end in pain. It seems once again Ten has proven me wrong.” 

Stephanie smiled brightly, “Sportacus is one of a kind.” 

Íþró chuckled, nodding in agreement, “He is defiantly one of a kind: one of the reasons why he was chosen to be a hero. It’s not just about being strong elves to be a hero: we are not only physically fit and mentally fit, but we have big hearts and care for the people we protect. Our magic shapes us who we are, gives us the strength to protect those who can’t help themselves and to give the boost somebody needs to go farther in their life. Without it all, our crystals, our title as heroes would mean nothing. Our dreams would just stay that: dreams.” 

She brought a finger to her lips in thought, before thinking aloud, “With your magic can you tell things about Sportacus?” 

“You mean what is his dream?” Íþró gave her a small smirk. He watched the girl nod sheepishly before laughing, “I’m surprised he didn’t share it with you, he used to talk my ear off about wanting to be the best hero he could be. Though, some things have changed since the first day he came to Latabæ.” 

Stephanie scooted closer, listening intently as the older hero gave the response, “Sportacus’ dream now is to live with Robbie, to spend the rest of their lives with each other, happy with their love.”


End file.
